


Livin' On A Prayer

by Lupin111



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 56,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lupin111/pseuds/Lupin111
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/U. Brian and Justin have a past, one that Brian is unaware of. They meet 10 years later, and this is the story of how Justin deals with it, and how it works out for the both of them, along with Justin struggling to deal with his emotions. </p><p>Any resemblance to Xrifree’s ‘Nice boys don’t play rock n roll’ (on fanfiction.net) is entirely my fault, because this story is hugely inspired that one. And by hugely, I mean ENORMOUSLY.</p><p>This was the first fic I ever wrote, about 6 years ago, so old that the site it was originally posted on does not even exist. Parts of this story is cringe-worthy. Be gentle, please!</p><p>DISCLAIMER: I don't own QAF, the characters...blah blah blah. You know the drill. If I had any right over these characters, the finale would have never have happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've played very fast and very loose with the background and setting, because this is the only way I can make it work. It's fairly easy to follow, but here are the points that are not obvious:
> 
> Brian grew up in Georgia, and moved to Pittsburgh when he was 19, when he started college. He met Lindsay in college; he shared an apartment with Michael at the same time. His family still sucks.
> 
> Ted works with Brian at Vanguard after getting fired from Werkschafter and he runs jerkatwork.com on the side.
> 
> Justin's back story will unfold itself gradually, but bear in mind that he is only 4 years younger to Brian here.
> 
> Michael already owns the comic book store.

_One morning, at the Liberty Diner_

Lindsay was giddy with excitement. She knew she shouldn't build things up too much, because there was a chance for disappointment, but still...Melanie was still talking on her mobile phone, a short distance away.  Mel understood, and was being as supportive as possible. Lindsay looked around, and caught Brian's eye. He seemed to stifle a yawn. Brian seemed to be getting a little bored; he kept fiddling with his phone, and wasn't paying the least bit of attention to the conversation around him.

"Brian! Jeez, can you at least  _pretend_ to listen?" Lindsay could actually hear Michael scowl before she saw it.

"Baby, just let him be. Brian wouldn't be Brian if he actually paid attention to people other than himself now, would he? Besides, I want to hear all about this delicious professor Teddy told me about."  Lindsay hadn't noticed Emmet, who had somehow managed to squeeze himself into the already cramped booth.

"Professor? What professor? How come Ted knows and your own mother doesn't?"

"Now the circus is complete" Brian said, earning himself a glare from Debbie.

"He's just some guy..."Michael mumbled, clearly unwilling to share. Ted, however, had different ideas on the subject.

"This Professor from Carnegie Mellon walked into the store yesterday, and he asked Michael to do a lecture for his students on homosexual something or the other in comics, and while Michael was picking his jaw up from the floor, he asked Michael out on a date as well. I translated Michael's mumble to the good professor, and accepted the dinner invite on his behalf...the Professor was  _HOT! Possibly_ hotter than even you, Brian." Ted cheekily added.  "But then, when we did some cursory background work on the guy, turns out that he's  positive, as in HIV, and our little Mikey is all hot and bothered about it now, without even having gone on the date."

"Weeelll," Brian drawled "Now we're all up to date."

Lindsay noticed that for once, Debbie had nothing to offer in the way conversation, and she mumbled something about a lemon bar. Lindsay was wondering exactly how long the silence would hold, when Melanie finally walked over to their booth, and gave her a quick kiss.

"Honey, are you sure you want this audience? I mean, you don't want to scare him off, do you?"

All eyes turned to Melanie.

"Him? What ‘him'? How come nobody tells me anything anymore?" Debbie was clearly not pleased with how things were going this morning.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I'm as clueless as you are." Emmett said. "Do tell, Mel, who is this mystery man that Lindsay has a date with...is she finally crossing over to the dark side?" Emmet laughed at his own joke, though all he managed to get out of Melanie was an eye roll.

Oh well, Lindsay thought. Might as well tell them all at once. They'll all be off to work soon at any rate, so she wouldn't have to suffer for too long. Lindsay took a deep breath, and started to speak.

"Well...Melanie and I had decided that I would eventually go back to work, but somehow, teaching isn't really inspiring me right now...and the gallery wants to wait till they're in a new financial year before taking on new staff permanently. So I'm just doing two days a week at the gallery...I think I mentioned this to you guys at various points...so...well...ummm...being around Gus  _has_  inspired me though, to do something creative, and different. I want to write some children's stories. I have a few ideas already, especially to introduce concepts of family that we don't see in regular children's books."

Lindsay could see Brian openly smirking now, but she pressed on anyways. She knew she had his support; they had in fact discussed this at length for weeks. Lindsay also knew that Brian would never allow his humanity to show to an audience this size. She almost smirked to herself at the thought.

"So, in my spare time, I've decided to work on a series of children's stories." Lindsay hurriedly concluded.

Everyone was predictably excited, and oohed and aahed and asked a dozen questions at once, and Lindsay didn't know whose to answer first. Michael was strangely quiet though, and Lindsay got the distinct impression that he wasn't exactly happy for her.  But...why  _wouldn't_  Michael be happy for her?

Then Emmett grabbed her attention away from Michael. "Everybody, be quiet now! So is this guy you're meeting the publisher? Is he hot? Is he gay?"

Brian laughed out loud. "Emmy Lou, doesn't she need a book before she finds herself a publisher?"

Michael finally decided to speak, and judging by Brian's expression, Lindsay knew that the catch in his voice wasn't just in her imagination.

"Brian's right. You don't have a book, so what would you need a publisher for? Is this guy you're meeting related at all to your new...ah...project, or is he the new babysitter?"

Melanie answered for her, and Lindsay couldn't make out if she didn't catch on to Michael's ever darkening mood, or whether Mel was simply ignoring it.

"Well, he certainly could be a viable candidate for babysitting duties. Lindz and I met him over the weekend, and Gus really took to him. He seemed very capable as well." She added, with a pointed look at Brian, "It isn't easy to find a good babysitter these days, you know. But in answer to your question, Justin isn't the new babysitter. He's probably going to be Lindsay's illustrator."

"Illustrator? What's that, like a painter" Debbie's expression mirrored that of Emmett's.   

"Where'd you find an illustrator from? The Yellow Pages?" Michael asked at the same time.

Lindsay sighed. "Deb, I have the story ideas, but I really can't translate that into pictures, and what use is a children's book without pictures? So I was looking for an artist who would be willing to do the drawings. I can't afford to pay right now, so I was looking for someone willing to collaborate on a profit sharing basis. I asked around, and Sidney, from the gallery, knows some people at PIFA.  He recommended a new student - Justin Taylor. He's transferring from the Pratt Institute in New York...well, Brooklyn, technically. You must've heard of it, Brian. _Very_  prestigious."

"If it's so prestigious, why on earth is he moving to the Pitts?" Michael's voice had regained its normal tone, but Lindsay wasn't fooled.

"Well, I didn't ask for details. He was sick for sometime it seems, and took time off school. He's from Pittsburgh, so he has relocated back here, I'm guessing due to his health."

"He mentioned that his mother lives here" Melanie chipped in.

"I didn't ask, I really didn't want to pry. It's none of my business, actually. Mel and I met him on Saturday, and I saw some of his work, which I was very impressed with. He also seemed very nice...unfortunately, his things were still on its way here, so I couldn't really see too much of his work.  He's rented a studio a few blocks from here, so he asked me to come over today to see more of his work, and he also said that he'd do a few sketches for me based on what we discussed, so that I can get an idea of the kind of illustrations that he would do for me. I'm meeting him here in a few minutes, and then we're going to go to his studio."

Lindsay hoped that Michael's grilling was finally over. He was just starting to mutter something about hiring sick people, when Brian spoke, almost to himself. He had a strange look on his face, one that Lindsay had never seen.

"I went to school with a Justin. Not Taylor, though. Justin...Griffith. That was his name."

Michael's eyes nearly popped out of his face. "What? I don't remember a Justin...or a Griffith...and since when do you remember people you went to school with?"

Now it was Brian's turn to sigh, and he looked like he regretted ever opening his mouth. "Mikey, this was before you...when I was in Georgia. Justin was...he was...this ridiculously...this..." Brian paused, and suddenly changed track. "Who cares what he was, I remember him only because he was the only guy with a decent ass in the whole state of Georgia."

Lindsay thought she had never sighed as much in her whole life as she did in that half hour. Michael was acting weird, and Brian was acting...weirder. And women were supposed to be difficult. Ha!

"Speak of the devil," Melanie said. "Hey, Justin, over here!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

Justin Taylor: one-time boy wonder, high school freak, president of the lonely hearts club, family black sheep, budding artist, gay violence victim, gay vigilante...and now he could add professional stalker to that list.

He had watched Brian Kinney exit his apartment building that morning, watched as Brian walked towards his car, briefcase in tow. It had been 10 years, and Brian had changed. But changed in a good way. No. He had changed in a  _deadly_ way. He looked even better, his clothes had improved exponentially and his body...his body was to die for. Not that Justin could see much of Brian's body underneath that suit, but Justin had got an eyeful at the gym, when he pretended to have a look at the place as a ‘prospective new member'. From what Justin had heard, brian had changed from the inside as well. Brian Kinney was the ultimate homosexual. Well well well Brian, we've come a long way from Georgia, haven't we? Try as he might, Justin could not keep the bitterness out.

Brian Kinney had  _not_ been the reason that Justin moved back to Pittsburgh. Justin moved to Pittsburgh, in all honesty, to get away from the chaos his life was descending into.  The first time he came running here was after the nightmare that Georgia turned into. His mother had brought him to Pittsburgh, where she was from. And Justin had managed to regain some semblance of a normal life to the point that he thought he could manage well enough to be somewhere else again.  So he left for Brooklyn...and ended up meeting Chris Hobbs again, which was shit, and being introduced to his baseball bat, which was triple shit with raisins. Could've done without that introduction, Justin thought grimly. After many sessions of physiotherapy, guns and vigilante justice, it struck Justin that he needed to reboot, to heal again, from the inside out. Pittsburgh pulled it off once; Justin had hoped it would do an encore.

And then he saw Brian. It was quite by accident the first time. His mother had wanted to take him out for a nice lunch, to celebrate his home coming. When Jennifer Taylor said  _nice_ , she had meant  _fancy_. That had been over two weeks ago. While Justin and his mother were waiting to be seated, they had overheard a rather loud conversation between a waiter and the maître d' about a table for a Brian Kinney.  Loud enough for Jennifer to actually look concerned, and Justin had almost laughed out loud. "There must be three thousand Brian Kinneys between here and Georgia, mom" he had said.

Turns out that out of that three thousand Brian Kinneys, it was  _his_  Brian Kinney that turned up for the reservation. He had changed, but there was no way that Justin could be mistaken. Or could he? Was he finally losing his mind?

Justin didn't let on to his mother, but the first thing he did when he got back to Daphne's was go through all the listings for Brian Kinneys.  He found five, and he struck gold on his third attempt. An attempted personal delivery of a ‘gift' to his apartment after the phone went unanswered had a helpful neighbor direct Justin to the gym. Further surreptitious stalking at Babylon had informed Justin all there was to know about Brian. Ah, Cody, you taught me well, Justin thought.

Justin couldn't really explain the stalking. He had come to Pittsburgh to heal, and here he was, stalking Brian Kinney instead. As if what Chris Hobbs did wasn't enough. You got your head bashed in, Justin told himself, do you want what's left of your heart crushed to nothing as well?

This was therapy, Justin argued with himself. Now you've seen him, you've heard about him, you know what he is. He isn't what you thought he'd be, but he is still Brian, and he will only turn the knife that's still jutting out of your back if given the chance. I'll have all the time in the world to learn to accept the idea of what Brian is. As long as I stay away from Babylon, thought Justin, there is no way I will ever run into Brian.

And then he laughed. Out loud, long and hard. Who cares if I run into Brian? There was no way Brian would recognize him - Craig wouldn't even recognize him. The hair was short now, well, shorter than the ponytail it used to be, and it was blonde, the way it always should have been. No more hideous corrective glasses either. His physique was finally something to be proud of, and the stint with Cody had helped too. He dressed with style. His voice was that of an adult. He was...

Justin wasn't quite sure what he was trying to convince himself of - that Brian wouldn't know him, or that he was finally something not to be ashamed of.

Justin walked towards the diner, glad to have something to distract him from Brian. Lindsay & Melanie had seemed like such a nice couple, and the illustrating job would be the perfect distraction. Children's books weren't exactly his style, but it would broaden his horizons at least. Justin was pretty sure that if he put in some effort, he could pull it off. Gus was adorable too, and Justin fell in love with him at first sight. He was looking forward to seeing that kid again.

Justin wanted Lindsay to see his work, he wanted her to appreciate it before he told her that he frequently used the computer. Hell, maybe she already knew, and didn't care, because of PIFA, but Justin didn't want to really risk it. Some people could still get weird about it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Justin saw Brian before he even spotted Lindsay. Every curse he knew ran through his mind in a matter of nanoseconds. There was no way those two were strangers. Just my fucking luck, Justin thought. It seemed like the whole universe was colluding against him. Maybe this is my punishment for turning into a stalker. Or maybe you  _are_  losing your mind, a voice inside his head said (sounding suspiciously like Chris Hobbs).

Okay, time for Plan B. Wait, what's plan A? (The voice sounded like Daphne this time). Justin ignored the voice. He took a deep breath. I'm perfect, he told himself. I'm Justin Taylor. I don't know a Justin Griffith. I'm from Pittsburgh. And Brian Kinney can suck his own dick. Another deep breath.

"Hey, Justin, over here!"

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	2. Chapter 2

Justin smiled at Melanie and walked over to her. Left foot, then right. Left, then right. Focus on Melanie. Breathe. Look at Lindsay. Smile at Lindsay. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. 25 is too old for panic attacks. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. 

Clearly, his inner turmoil was not visible, because Melanie and Lindsay had identical, welcoming smiles plastered on their faces. Justin didn't dare look at Brian. Lindsay got up and gave him a small hug, and Melanie pecked his cheek. Lindsay was the one who started talking.

"I have to say Justin, I am so excited about this...and I can't wait to see your work. Sidney mentioned that he had seen some of your work at Pratt, and he was very impressed. I also had a few more ideas that I thought we could discuss today." Justin smiled, relaxing. If Lindsay kept talking, maybe he could completely forget about Brian.

A slight clearing of Emmett's throat stopped Lindsay's chatter for a moment. "Where are my manners, let me introduce you to my friends. This is Emmett, Ted, Michael and Brian. Oh, and that's Debbie, Michael's mom. She pretty much runs the diner. Guys, this is Justin Taylor."

Justin smiled, and was saved from saying anything at all because Debbie descended upon him. "So, you're the illustrator, huh? Well, aren't you a cutie! Pittsburgh's gonna love ya. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Deb, jeez, let the kid breathe".

Justin's insides froze. Did Brian Kinney just call him a kid? 

Brian continued speaking "Justin? Have we met before?"

All warmth left Justin's eyes as he turned to look at Brian. His eyebrows raised themselves against his will, and his smile dimmed. It only took seconds, though it felt like an eternity.

Instead of uttering something ridiculous though, Justin managed to pull himself together and ignore Brian. He turned to look at Debbie and flashed her a dazzling smile. "Actually, I wouldn't mind a coffee, and maybe a muffin...is that a lemon bar?"

Justin managed idle chatter with Debbie as he walked with her towards the counter. Anything to get away from Brian.

 

* * *

 

What just happened? It was only a matter of seconds, but you had to be blind to have missed Justin's reaction to Brian. That look was pure ice. It was cold, cold, colder than any look Melanie had  _ever_ given Brian.  And what was with Brian, anyway?

Melanie was looking at Brian and snickering. "Have we met before? Really? Brian?  _Really_? That was lame, even for you."

" _Especially_  for you." That was Ted.

Brian glared at both of them. "I wasn't hitting on him, asshole. He just looked...incredibly familiar."

"Well -" Emmett started to say something, but he was interrupted.

Melanie laughed, though it was without malice. "Good thing you weren't hitting on him. Did you see that look he gave you? No  _way_  you'd get into his pants."

"I could have him on his knees anytime I wanted. I bet I can do him sooner than...sooner than you can come up with another excuse to hit me up for more money." Brian leaned back smugly. Lindsay knew that Brian hadn't missed Justin's look at all. He was annoyed that Melanie had picked up on it. And by the look on Melanie's face, she wasn't taking too kindly to Brian's dig either. Uh-oh. This was not going to end well.

Melanie glanced over her shoulder to look at the counter, where Justin was still talking to Debbie.

She dropped her voice to just above a whisper. Emmett had to actually lean forward to listen to her. "Not inside his mouth, inside his pants. In a week. Hundred bucks says you can't pull it off."

"Melanie!" Lindsay didn't know what else to say. She could see Brian struggle to stay in control.

"You're on."

"Brian!" What was  _with_  the two of them?

"I'm with Brian. Twenty bucks." Michael said loyally.

Ted was actually grinning. "I'm putting fifty on Mel."

Oh great, Lindsay thought. Now we're doomed.

"This is a  _baaaad_  idea." Emmett, for once, wasn't taking part. but wait...why _wasn't_  Emmett taking part? 

A smiling Justin walked over. "Shall we?" He asked Lindsay.

"Where's your studio? I can give you both a ride" Brian was obviously determined to win the bet.

This time, Justin's look wasn't as cold, but there wasn't a trace of a smile on his face. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. It's just two blocks from here, and the road is one way, I think."    

This was going to be one tough bet for Brian.

 

* * *

  
 

The discussion with Lindsay was going much better than expected. If Lindsay had noticed that there was nothing one-way about the roads, she wisely kept her comments to herself.

Justin had taken out some of his best work, though most of it was still in boxes and packaging. Lindsay had loved the sketches that he did, and when he told her that he used the computer a lot, she genuinely didn't seem to care. She didn't ask why he used a computer, and Justin didn't bother explaining. Lindsay seemed to have a very WASP background, kind of like his mother. He knew they worked had very fine ideas on tact and not asking too many questions, and Justin was grateful.

Within the next few hours, they had worked out details of their partnership (which Melanie would no doubt hammer into a contract) and they figured out a rough schedule. And then, because Justin genuinely liked Lindsay, he agreed to accompany her back to her place for an early lunch (Justin was famished; his foray into stalking hadn't left him with much time to eat). He was also very eager to see Gus once more. There was something about that kid that Justin couldn't get enough of.

 

* * *

 

Melanie wished that she hadn't let her temper runaway with her. Ah well, the damage was already done. She'd get an earful Lindsay in the evening, but at least she'd be richer by the end of next week. I'll use the money to get something nice for Gus, Melanie thought.

She looked up when she heard Emmett mention her name.

"- when Mel so rudely interrupted me, I know why he looks familiar. I read about him, too. I didn't really figure out who he was until he flashed that gorgeous smile at Deb, and then I remembered him from the pictures."

"Honeycutt, what are you talking about?" Melanie almost felt sorry for Brian. Emmett knew something about an artist that both Brian and Lindsay didn't? This morning was just too funny.

"That's Emmy Lou to you." Emmett huffed. "I read about him in  _Out._ At least, I'm pretty sure it was him - an alumni from St. James was attacked by some homophobe while studying in Brooklyn. I think it was last summer? Or the summer before? I dunno...they had written to complain about the light sentence the assailant got, and were collecting signatures or something to petition the judge."

Melanie and Brian both scoffed at that. Debbie was mumbling something about torches.

"Anyways, details, as you can see, are a bit hazy. But I'm pretty sure that it's the same guy. Didn't Lindsay mention that he was sick?"

Brian didn't look too convinced, and Melanie kind of agreed - of all people that Brian's memory would retain, why would it choose a victim of homophobia that Brian had probably never even met? But it was the only possible explanation available. Curiouser and curiouser.

Melanie decided to be nice.  It would be more fun to win a bet while Brian was still talking to her, as opposed to giving her death glares.  She smiled at Brian as she stood up. "Well, whatever it is, he obviously doesn't like you. So...you've got seven days to work your charm, or hope that he gets piss drunk at Babylon that he doesn't realize  _who's_  fucking him. One way or another, the clock is ticking."

Emmett stood up as well; apparently he was on his way out too.  "I'd latch on to Lindsay, and I'd do it soon. She seems to be your ticket into those pants, because I'm thinking that you're gonna need all the help you can get."

This was going to be fun.

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	3. Livin' On A Prayer  by Lupin111

Brian had been feeling off-kilter all week, and he could pinpoint exactly when the feeling started. Sometime last week, a guy in Brian's building - he couldn't remember the name, but he remembered fucking him in the elevator once - had mentioned a special delivery that had come for him, and apparently the delivery guy was given the name of both the gym and Vanguard, but Brian hadn't got any deliveries, special or otherwise. It was just about the time he noticed the missed call from a number that had been blocked. Brian wasn't worried, but it was just...weird.

Then this morning, as he left his building, Brian could swear that someone was watching him. He did look, and as far as he could tell, there was no one, but he just couldn't shake off the feeling.

When Brian had walked into the diner, he wanted to be suitably amused, but even that hadn't happened. Brian knew that Michael was all weird about Ben, the professor, but he got positively bizarre about Lindsay's as-of-yet-unwritten book. Brian knew what this meant; he'd have to play agony aunt to Michael before the sun set. Michael would make sure of it. He was truly not in the mood.

And then Lindsay mentioned a Justin, and Brian suddenly remembered Justin Griffith. He remembered the kid, bright eyed and bushy tailed, so to speak, practically worshipping the ground Brian walked on...that night in the park...Brian remembered brushing him off the next day, and he was surprised at the overwhelming feeling of guilt that enveloped him. Whatever happened to Justin, anyway? Brian never saw him after that day...

"I went to school with a Justin. Not Taylor, though. Justin...Griffith. That was his name." Where the  _hell_  did that come from? Fuck. Brian wanted to slap himself. He saw Michael's face, and then wanted to slap himself twice. Kinney, you fucking idiot.

Michael was yammering, "What? I don't remember a Justin...or a Griffith...and since when do you remember people you went to school with?"

Try explaining Justin Griffith. "Justin was...he was...this ridiculously...this..."Brian paused. It was impossible to explain Justin, and Brian did not like the unfamiliar emotions that he was suddenly feeling. "Who cares what he was, I remember him only because he was the only guy with a decent ass in the whole state of Georgia."

And suddenly, Brian was staring at the hottest blonde he had seen since...well, the hottest blonde he had seen. Ever. And damn it if he didn't look so eerily familiar.  In fact...that smile...Justin Griffith? But no, Lindsay had called him Justin Taylor, apparently from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, not Atlanta, Georgia. And this guy was, well, blonde, and fit, an artist, and...just plain impeccable. Brian told himself he was being stupid. He had just thought of Justin Griffith, which is probably why he now thought this guy was one and the same as that Justin. Mind playing tricks on you, Kinney. But that smile...

He  _had_  met this guy somewhere before. Brian was sure of it.

"Justin? Have we met before?" Fuck fuck  _fuck_.  _Where_  did that come from? Finesse, Kinney. Get some. NOW.

Then Brian was looking at such icy...disdain? rage? in Justin's eyes. What the hell? And before he knew, Justin was flashing a sunshine smile at Debbie and was walking away with her. Brian could not believe it; he hates me before I've uttered more than ten words to him?

Wait, why do I even care? But Brian  _did_  care, and he didn't have a clue why. What he did know was that he needed some peace and quiet to pull himself together and snap out of this strange dimension he seemed trapped in.

But. But. But. But. Trust Melanie and Ted to make a bad situation worse. Before Brian even realized what was exactly happening, he was part of a nonsensical bet that his ego refused to let him lose. Not that he  _could_  lose. Seriously, who could refuse him?

He was to be surprised on that count as well, because apparently, Justin Taylor could. Brian watched in utter amazement as Justin spouted some pure, unadulterated bullshit about one-way roads before he walked out with Lindsay.

 

* * *

 

Brian figured that he should get Mikey out of the way as soon as possible, because he wanted his evening free to come up with a plan to handle Justin. There was no fucking way he was losing a bet to Melanie Marcus. And Theodore. The mere thought of it made Brian's insides turn. Brian Kinney, lose to Melanie & Theodore? Now that would be a sign of the apocalypse.

That was how Brian found himself at Red Cape Comics during lunch time. To sort Michael out. Brian came armed though, with his own Ted Schmidt doll. That way, he was safe to be distracted now and then, because Ted would auto initiate himself. Ugh, just being around a comic book store made people think like geeks. Brian figured that there was no point in wasting time, so he got to the point, as per his priorities.

"So, Mikey, what gives? Lindsay's kiddies books are what...second cousins to your comics? I thought you'd be happy for her. You two will finally have something in common, besides myself, that is."

Michael frowned. "You wouldn't understand, Brian. Neither of you would."

Ted needed no further encouragement. "Try us."

"What's the point? You have jerk@work, and Brian has...well, he's Brian. It's like everyone is getting to their goal posts except me. I mean, I'm the one crazy about comics, and all I do is sell them. All Lindsay did was pop out a kid, and now she's fucking  _writing_  a book! With pictures! For kids! I feel like by the time I manage to take one step forward, everyone else has run ten miles. And Lindsay...I feel like she's stealing my dream."

Brian also heard what Michael didn't say, and he was pretty certain that Ted heard it too; Lindsay managed to have a kid with Brian, and Michael could never have that. Michael would never have a future with Brian, and Lindsay managed to entwine her life with Brian's permanently, all the while draping herself over Mel. And now this book...Lindsay was almost living Michael's dream.

Brian wondered if Mikey would get over this on his own, and if so, how long it would take. Ted, however, had moved on to the next topic.

"You  _are_  going for dinner with the Professor, aren't you? After your lecture?"

"I dunno, Ted. He  _is_  positive, and...I don't know if I'm ready to handle something like that, you know? What if I end up actually liking the guy?"

Ted chuckled. "Michael, you haven't even gone out with him once. Why don't you take it as it comes? Ben Bruckner may not be exactly what you imagined for yourself, but maybe what you've imagined for yourself isn't what you really need. Maybe the reason you're not making it to your goal post is because you keep running towards someone else's one."

Brian smiled to himself. Ted was pretty astute, though he rarely showed it. He wondered if Michael understood the meaning behind Ted's words.

"Ok children, time to go. I've got steaks to sell and illustrators to seduce, and neither of those are going to get done standing around here."

 

* * *

 

_**Later that evening** _

 

Brian replayed his conversation with Ted, as he parked his car outside Lindsay's place.

Coming over to Lindsay's, had in fact, been Ted's idea. Ted had waited till they were almost outside Brian's office before he started.

"I was going to go over some tax stuff with Melanie tonight...but she mentioned that Lindsay was having Justin over for a working dinner or something, so I figured I shouldn't intrude. Wouldn't hurt for you turn up there though, I suppose. I mean, you  _do_  have an illustrator to seduce."

"Theodore, you do realize that you bet  _against_  me, right? And by trying to help me, not that I need it, you're kind of spoiling your chances? Now why would you be so obtuse?"

And then Ted had given Brian the strangest of speeches.

"I'm not trying to help you, I AM helping you. Because, I do in fact think you need it, and further, I think that even if Mel & I both helped you, you might still lose the bet. Think about it, Brian. Justin was so cold to you, so rude, based on knowing you for, what? 5 seconds? Impossible. My bet is that he knew exactly who you were  _before_  he met you, because, after all, you're Brian fucking Kinney. Someone must've given the dope on you. Justin probably checked Lindsay out, and your name popped out at him via Gus. Based on that, he has taken an incredible dislike towards you. Before he ever even met you.  Meaning that he's either incredibly stupid, or there is a set of morals made of steel behind those blue eyes. Either ways, you're in trouble. You could take some wine for dinner tonight. Or a roofie. Or both. Might come in handy, you know."

As it turned out, however, Brian decided to turn up sans wine and roofie. His charm and good looks would simply have to do.

But he did think about what Ted had said. Brian had to admit, it made a lot of sense. It did absolutely nothing to explain why Justin looked so incredibly familiar, or why his pants felt hot and tight when he pictured Justin. It did explain Justin's coldness, though, and right now, some explanation was better than no explanation. Bet or no bet, Brian  _did_  want to sleep with Justin. No doubt about that. What Brian couldn't rationalize was why he wanted Justin to  _like_  him.  

Brian sighed as he walked up to the door. 7 days, and the Day 1 was almost ending. Justin better be here. Ted was going to be a dead man if this ended up being a red herring.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here, Brian." Melanie was behind him, and Brian almost jumped.

"You're scary enough face to face, must you sneak up on people too? I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd drop in to see Gus. I didn't realize I needed to announce my visits beforehand." Brian scowled to himself. She better not figure out why I'm really here.

Melanie, on the other hand, merely rolled her eyes as she unlocked the door and walked in, letting Brian follow her. She walked into the kitchen, where Brian could hear Lindsay cooking. Wondering where Justin could be, if he was here at all, Brian walked into the living room, and froze.

Justin was lying on the couch, sketch pad resting on bent knees and the cushions beneath him elevating his upper body slightly. Gus was sprawled on Justin's chest, fast asleep. Justin was cradling Gus' back with his left hand, while he was sketching something slowly with his right hand.

Brian knew he was in trouble when he felt his entire chest constrict slowly as he took in the view.

_Big_  trouble.

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	4. Chapter 4

Justin watched Gus sleep, drooling slightly. He smiled. Gus was ADORABLE. Justin would gladly have moved into Lindsay's attic, if only for the chance to be with Gus. If he ever became a father, he wanted the kid to be exactly like Gus. He continued sketching and his thoughts drifted to his own father, Craig. Justin's eyes clouded over.

He remembered sitting in the lawyer's office, reading the petition. That had been seven years ago, soon after he had turned 18. Jennifer had received a notice from Craig through her lawyer. He had given Justin 6 months to legally change his name, and threatened to commence legal proceedings to disown him if Justin continued to use his father's name.

Justin sighed. If it wasn't one thing, it was something else. The lawyer had assured them that there was very little Craig to do from a legal standpoint, but Justin didn't care. Clearly, he needed a new name.

Still...not that he was ever fond of the name Griffith, but did Craig have to be so...so final? It was then that Justin had realized that there would be no reconciliation, no tearful apologies, no understanding...nothing. Justin effectively  _had_  no father, and he needed to get used to that.  That Craig wanted next to nothing to do with him couldn't have been any clearer. Jennifer had reverted to using her maiden name, Taylor, at the same time, and Justin told himself that maybe it was because he had an almost perfect mother that he was cursed with Craig for a father.

He also had to remind himself that he needed to stop seeking approval from people in his life that were never, ever going to approve of him. Well, forget approval. Justin would have been happy with just being liked.  He smiled grimly to himself. Maybe that's why he had stalked Brian. Hoping for some kind of affirmation, which, unfortunately, he wouldn't get.  (And he steadfastly ignored the voice in his head that was already wondering aloud about what other motives he could have)

Brian was out now.  If Justin thought about it rationally, it was extremely unlikely that Brian would push him away for just being gay. That was just retarded. But he remembered what he had heard of Brian's lifestyle. Brian would never give him the kind of approval that Justin had always sought from him; hell, Justin doubted that straight or gay, Brian would even notice his existence. If Brian ever found out about what Chris Hobbs did, he'd probably run a mile in the other direction. Brian Kinney with goods as damaged as Justin? Ha! That would be the day. Well, maybe if I shake my ass hard enough at Babylon, I'll catch his attention long enough to be rewarded by a trip to the backroom, Justin thought. Then there was that annoying voice again, inside his head:  _but that isn't the kind of reward you want, is it?_

It was actually fitting how rejection from Brian and Craig had happened on the same day, just hours apart. Justin had been 15, and ridiculously hysterical, now that he thought about it. Instead of taking Brian's words like a man, he had turned into a crumpled heap, sobbing hysterically in Jennifer's arms. It's not like what Brian had said was news...but hearing it from Brian...that was what killed him.

And then Craig had turned up. Or maybe he had always been there, listening, and Justin and Jennifer just hadn't noticed.  He remembered when Craig had pulled him out of Jennifer's arms, stopping only to issue an ultimatum to her before hauling Justin towards the door. Jennifer had been screaming; Justin was pretty certain that she had really believed Craig was going to kill him, perhaps throttle him with his bare hands.

Justin had frozen, too shocked to do anything, and not even half as strong as Craig to fight him off. All thoughts of Brian had been forgotten in the ensuing melee. Jennifer had been crying and pleading with Craig to stop, and Justin was screaming at Craig to let him go, and Craig had been the loudest of them all, spewing one of his homophobic tirades.

When Craig merely threw him out on to the curb, it had almost seemed like an anticlimax. Almost.  Then Craig  _did_  threaten to kill him, if Justin were to ever set foot inside the house again.  _Ever_.

Along with a speech about how Craig would rather not have a son at all than be cursed with a ‘godless cock sucking faggot', Justin was told, in no uncertain terms, that he was dead to the family, and that for all Craig cared, he could sit on the sidewalk and rot to death. But if he were to so much as try and step inside, Craig had promised him that death would be swift and bloody.

Jesus. Ten years, and it still felt like yesterday. Justin shivered involuntarily. His grip on Gus tightened.

"Gus, no one is ever going to put  _you_ through something like that."  Justin whispered and he leaned forward to kiss the child's forehead.

That's when Justin heard a noise, and looked up to find Brian Kinney standing at the doorway, a small smile playing on his lips.

 

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	5. Chapter 5

"Brian"

What was he doing here? It was as if Brian heard his question, even though Justin had merely thought it.

"Came to see Sonny boy, but I guess I'm a bit too late to catch him awake. Oh well. Perhaps the munchers will feed me something if I stay long enough."

"Sonny boy?"

_Sonny_...surely...no...Gus? No  _way_! Justin couldn't even begin to make sense of this...Brian...Gus...Lindsay... _Brian_?!

"You mean Gus...?"  Justin sounded and looked as confused as he felt. But Justin knew the answer even as the redundant, stupid question was forming.

Brian smiled. "You didn't know I was the father, did you." It wasn't a question.

"But...but..." Justin didn't even try to act cool. How the  _fuck_  did Brian and Lindsay have a kid together???? "It's not...I mean..."  _FUCK_.

 

* * *

 

Brian had watched as Justin sketched, and he couldn't explain to himself why the scene in front of him had such a strong effect on him. Justin had then stopped sketching and whatever thoughts were running through his mind, they clearly weren't happy ones. He almost looked physically ill, and Brian wondered, for about the thousandth time that day, exactly what was going on. When Justin had whispered to Gus and kissed him, Brian didn't even realize that he was smiling.

And then Lindsay dropped something in the kitchen, Justin looked up, and the spell was broken.

When Brian realized that Justin didn't know that he was Gus' father, his brain started running in ten different directions at the same time. Ted's theory was clearly wrong, and Brian couldn't imagine why Justin looked so surprised...if Brian had told him that the world had stopped spinning, he couldn't have looked any more astounded than he did now.

"You were thinking, what, immaculate conception? The virgin birth? Though I must say, it was pretty immaculate...my dick, my hand, my sperm...the cup could have been nicer, I suppose." When realization dawned on Justin, Brian smirked. Wait... did the blonde just blush?

As always, Melanie could be trusted on to put a brake on his luck.

"I heard you and Lindsay got a lot of work done...and Gus just loved you, didn't he?" Melanie walked in smiling, with Lindsay in tow.

Justin seemed to have found his bearings once more. "Gus is adorable. You... _all_ of you are so incredibly lucky." The emphasis wasn't lost on Brian.

Then Lindsay started speaking to him, and Brian missed the rest of Justin's conversation with Melanie.

"Brian, not that you're not welcome here anytime, but I keep telling you to call ahead...I would've told you that Gus had fallen asleep. Now that you're here though, why don't you take Gus to bed, and I'll get us some wine. Why don't you stay for dinner?" Lindsay dropped her voice and leaned towards Brian. "You  _did_  come here just for Gus, right?" She winked at Brian as she walked across the room to get the glasses, and Brian could only scowl at her back.

Through some previously established telepathy between the women, Melanie walked towards Lindsay with a bottle of wine, so with a shake of his head, Brian went to put Gus to bed. Except that when he walked up to Justin, Justin merely looked at him expectantly, and his eyebrows were slightly raised as well. Cocky little twat, Brian thought.

"Perhaps you would be so kind as to let go of my son so that I can put him to bed?" Brian was smirking, but Justin had the good grace to blush when he realized that he was still clutching Gus protectively, and Brian found himself smiling instead.

And he was rewarded by a mumbled "I'm sorry" by Justin, who smiled a genuine smile at Brian for the first time that day as he awkwardly tried to hand Gus over to Brian.

As Brian leaned over to pick up Gus, all four people in the room were struck by how incredibly intimate and domestic the situation was, and how it seemed...just right. Of course, only two people realized it outright; one was still very confused, and the other brushed it away as he continued to ensconce himself in denial.  

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner, as it turned out, went much better than expected. Brian was still Brian, but Lindsay was surprised at the effort he was putting in for this bet...it  _was_  an effort, wasn't it? The chemistry between the two was undeniable, despite Justin's best efforts to avoid Brian. Lindsay wasn't stupid; Justin was far more reserved now than he had been the whole day, and seemed to seek out Lindsay or Melanie's company - whoever was furthest away from Brian. Unfortunately for Justin, he didn't have too many hiding places when there were only two people he could go to for refuge.

Melanie was wrong, Lindsay thought. It wasn't that Justin hated Brian. He was  _afraid_  of Brian. I mean, why avoid a person you hate? You'd just be mean and snarky to them. Lindsay began to warm to her theory more and more. Justin was afraid of Brian, but why? Lindsay found her curiosity piqued in spite of herself..

"Brian, you were saying something about Justin looking incredibly familiar, yes? Did you manage to figure out where you've seen him before?"

The question was directed towards Brian, but Lindsay kept her eyes trained on Justin, and she didn't miss how Justin went in to freeze frame for a few seconds, before he seemingly recovered.

"I seem familiar?"

Lindsay was impressed. That was probably the first question that Justin had directed at Brian all evening.

"Just got a sense of déjà vu when I met you at the diner. I'm pretty certain we've met each other before."

Justin got an enigmatic look on his face as he replied, "Déjà vu? I've read that some Freudians believe the déjà vu feeling is actually repressed memories escaping the unconscious. It's supposed to represent the desire for a second chance, to set things right or...something to that effect...but then again, there are also theories that say that déjà vu is just a glitch in the brain's neurochemistry. An inability to process recognition and memory...doesn't necessarily mean that the memory is authentic."                                                                                                            

* * *

 

Three incredulous faces stared back at him. Justin had no idea what had prompted him to make that little speech, but the look on Brian's face was priceless.  _Totally_  worth the risk.

Melanie laughed. "A glitch in the brain's neurochemistry? That sounds just about right, doesn't it, Brian? Yup, I think that's what it is. I like you, Justin" she added.

Brian, apparently, was choosing to ignore Melanie. He looked at Justin instead. "Interesting. Very interesting. Tell me, doctor, when I can schedule a full session with you? You know... to examine the  _neuro_ chemistry further?" The meaning behind his words was unmistakable.

Whoa...Justin, this is too close to home...Brian and private lessons...sessions...whatever...Brian's unconscious seemed to be far more attuned to life than Brian realized.

He smiled and managed to speak steadily. "The doctor doesn't practice, he only paints. Dinner was lovely, Lindsay."

"Thank you. You know Justin, you should show some of your work to Brian. He's got a good eye, plus, he's in advertising."

Justin smiled; how was poor Lindsay to know that Justin already had a dossier on Brian?   

Brian had noticed Justin's smile, and Justin was pretty sure that Brian must have given some totally inappropriate meaning to it, because there was no possible way that Brian would know the truth.

"What, advertising too bourgeois for you, Picasso?"

He laughed. It was fun riling Brian up. "No, not at all. Actually, part of your target market intersects with mine...your feedback on my work would prove invaluable." Justin struggled to keep a straight face.

"My...target market? You don't even know which brand, what product, but you've figured out that our target markets intersect?" Justin couldn't tell if Brian was amused, annoyed or both.

"I don't  _need_  to know about brands or products. I'm just going by basic marketing theory. Your most important market segment is the ‘Stupid Rich'. They're the people who'll buy anything and they have the money to spend. You sell enough to them, you'll lower your client's production cost enough to lower the price and sell to the ‘Stupid Poor' - not nearly as much money, but you get your volume. My target market is only the ‘Stupid Rich'. Only they can afford my art, plus, they're tasteless and easily amused.

Seriously Bri...Brian, you can't sell anything to smart people. The ‘Smart Poor' would just figure out a way to steal your product without having to pay for it, and the ‘Smart Rich' would just buy over your client's company, and probably your agency too. We're very lucky, actually, that we belong to the small minority of smart people who are able to manipulate such a complex marketing dynamic. So, yeah, in answer to your question, I figure that our target markets intersect." 

When Melanie and Lindsay burst out laughing, Justin joined them. It felt so good to just let go and laugh, and when Brian joined them, after muttering ‘fucking twat' at Justin, he actually felt at home.

Justin didn't even remember slipping up on Brian's name.

 

* * *

 

Brian glanced sideways at Justin, who seemed mesmerized by the passing scenery. The blonde had loosened up as the evening progressed, and Brian couldn't believe how much he had actually enjoyed himself. Even Melanie hadn't been as annoying as normal.

Brian was not one step closer to figuring out where he had met Justin before, but it didn't really bother him as much as he thought it would. He was also no closer to winning the bet, and  _that_  bothered him. He also couldn't figure out why Justin was still so skittish around him...Brian didn't know if Justin had just tripped over his tongue, or had actually  _meant_  to call him Bri...he does his best to avoid me, but has already given me a nickname? It made no sense whatsoever.

When Justin had made his excuses to leave, Brian had offered to drop him, and he was pretty sure that Justin had agreed only because he had no reasonable excuse to give. Brian sniggered, thinking about the ‘one-way roads'. Brian was certain that if he could lure Justin into Babylon, getting him into the backroom wouldn't prove to be too difficult, but Justin had steadfastly refused his invitation to join him and the rest of the guys at Babylon later on. Ted was right about one thing; there certainly was  _something_  made of steel behind those blue eyes and sunshine smile.

 

* * *

 

"You were at Pratt, right? Why the move to PIFA? Why would  _any_ one leave New York to move to Pittsburgh? "

Justin snapped out of his reverie and shrugged. "I fell sick; had to take about a year off school...then I did what most stupid kids who take a year off do - I took more time off. After that I didn't meet the requirements for my scholarship anymore, so I had to work my ass off to earn the tuition for PIFA. New York isn't all that it's cracked up to be, Brian. Oh, and you can drop me off here. This is where I stay. I'm sharing with an old friend from school."

Justin thanked Brian for the ride, once again refusing the invitation to come  down to Babylon later on, and walked inside. The air between them had positively cracked with electricity, and Justin could feel Brian's eyes on him as he walked to the door. He could see Daphne's light was on.

For some reason, he didn't want to lie to Brian. But there was no way in hell that he was telling Brian the truth. There was no way that Brian was finding out how his buddy Hobbs took a bat to Justin's head, how for months Justin had been a quivering heap who could barely walk down the street without having a panic attack. It was equally pointless to tell Brian how stupid and weak he had been to join the Pink Posse, and that it had taken several months of street violence and shoving a gun down Hobbs' throat for Justin's brain cells to start functioning again. By that time, the Pratt Institute had ‘regretfully' informed him that they couldn't continue with his scholarship because Justin was no longer an unaided student. Apparently, using a computer to help while his gimp hand healed wasn't ‘fair' to other scholarship applicants. They had been willing to keep him on as a student, but not on their tab.

Jennifer certainly couldn't afford the tuition. The only thing Justin hadn't done was hustle while he earned to pay for his own tuition. By the end of it all, he was burnt out and just as liable to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge as he was to study. That's when he took his earnings and his student aid grant and headed to Pittsburgh, hoping the city could help him become who he used to be. New York  _really_  wasn't what it was cracked up to be.

Justin sighed. Better that Brian think he was an aimless fool than the damaged failure that he was. 

 

 

End Notes:

X-Philes may recognise that Justin's theories on déjà vu and the unconscious is based on Mulder and Scully's debate about it from the Season 6 episode 'Monday'.

Justin's theories on marketing are taken from Scott Adam's 'The Dilbert Principle'. 

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	6. Chapter 6

**_Day 3 (counting from the day of the bet)_ **

 

To say that Brian was annoyed was an understatement. He had growled at everyone in the diner when he had dropped by for breakfast. Brian would have gladly skipped the diner all together, but he had gone there in the hopes of bumping into Justin. This time, an hour before his normal schedule. To no avail. When he walked into the office, Cynthia needed just one look at his face before she wisely decided to hold his calls and reschedule his appointments for the day.

_Fuck_ , Brian thought. He hadn't been able to get Justin out of his mind, despite all his efforts. What _was_ it about the guy? He hadn't given Brian even a backward glance as he had walked from the car that night after Lindsay's. Brian had ended up at Babylon, picking up three tricks and taking a fourth back to the loft (all of them blonde) and for the first time in a very, very long time, Brian had not been satisfied. He hated to admit this to himself, but the ass he really wanted belonged to a very particular blonde.

And that damn infernal bet. Brian had turned up at the diner for breakfast yesterday, and Debbie informed him that ‘Sunshine' had come in a good hour earlier, had ordered a milkshake, pancakes and a hash brown, spent a good 45 minutes there chatting to Debbie, before leaving. Brian, apparently, had missed him by 15 minutes. He had managed to speak to Lindsay though, who informed him that she had no plans to meet Justin for the next two days, as he had class or some such. She had actually been surprised that the dinner had not led to more interesting activities later on. Lindsay had offered to give him Justin's telephone number, but Brian had scoffed at the offer; what on earth would he have told Justin anyway, if he had called? _I have this bet I really need to win, so how about we schedule a fuck?_ Besides, ask for help from Lindsay? Brian scoffed. He could just picture Melanie's face once she found out.

Brian had actually stooped so low as to drive round Justin's block in the evening. No sign of the blonde. Not at Woody's, not at Babylon, and not in any of the other clubs down Liberty Avenue. Not even at the diner, though Kiki had been surprised to see him there at that time of the evening. Another trip to Justin's place proved futile as well. The same lights were on, and Brian could hear laughter, though he couldn't be sure that it was coming from the same house. Even if the whole house had been lit up, Brian had to admit that there was no conceivable reason for him to be ringing that doorbell.

The nagging feeling that he knew Justin from somewhere before was also making a strong comeback.

Where are you hiding, Justin Taylor? Brian thought. And _what_ are you hiding? Emmett had said that a gay kid bearing Justin's description had been the victim of a gay bashing; Emmett was still convinced that it was Justin. Maybe Emmett was right, that must be how Brian knew him. Justin had mentioned taking time off school, but all he had said was that he had been ‘sick'. How sick do you have to be, to take a whole year of school, Brian wondered. He drummed his fingers on his table, thinking.

On impulse, Brian entered Justin's name into Google, and looked at what turned up. Unfortunately for Brian, the first 10 pages were divided between a Justin Taylor who played hockey in Alberta, Canada, a guitarist's profile on every social networking site on the planet and another who was part of some evangelical church. Or was it a gospel network? Brian was getting severely frustrated.

"Cynthia, get in here. And cancel all Theodore's appointments for today, if he has any, and drag him in here as well."

Five minutes later, a confused Cynthia and a curious Ted stood in his office.

"Theodore, first of all, I don't care that you have money on the other team, you are going to help me. Second of all, you are not to breathe a word about this to anyone. You'll be having your meals through a feeding tube if you don't."

"Uh...yes...of course...why else would I help you...not like we're friends or anything." Brian was constantly amazed by how Ted could keep a straight face through almost anything.

"Ok, listen up, boys and girls. Justin Taylor. He's a student at PIFA...second or third year, I'm not sure. Formerly a student of the Pratt Institute, New York. Brooklyn. Wherever. He's blonde, gorgeous, has an incredible smile and the perfect ass. Ted knows what he looks like. I really don't care how you do it, but I want his schedule at PIFA. Oh, and if it helps, he lives at 36, Isabella Street, near that hospital."

Ted raised his eyebrows at that, but Brian chose to ignore him and continued barking out instructions.

"I also want to know if he was a victim of a hate crime, some gay bashing incident. _Advocate_ , _Out_ or some other magazine proclaiming to be the paragon of gay rights might have done a write-up on it a few years ago. I need all this by lunch. If you can get it done any earlier, even better."

"By _lunch_ , Brian? Are you kidding me? Jeez...who is this Justin Taylor?"

"Cynthia, you know I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't have the utmost confidence in your abilities, right? Besides, Theodore will be an able assistant, I'm sure. Oh, and Cynthia, don't frown so much. You'll have more lines than San Andreas. Now quit staring and get to work, both of you. I have a campaign to crack."

I _will_ find you, Justin.

 

* * *

 

Justin had to admit the power that Brian still wielded over him was substantial. It was a good thing that he had stalked Brian, because he had a good idea of Brian's schedule. After the dinner at Lindsay & Melanie's, Justin wasn't sure that he was quite ready to deal with Brian first thing in the morning. So he had gone to the diner an hour before Brian would turn up, and ended up having a lovely time with Debbie. She had taken to calling him ‘Sunshine', and Justin liked it. And her.

Justin went straight home after class, as he and Daphne had planned to spend some quality time together in the evening. It didn't take too long for the conversation to gravitate to the subject of one Brian Kinney.

"I still can't believe that I don't even know what Brian looks like." Daphne said, while munching on celery.

"Just close your eyes and imagine a Greek god. That's what he looks like." Justin laughed. "Okay, okay. Tell you what, drop my studio tomorrow after your shift, ok? I have sketches I did of Brian from school...they're all in one box, and I'll keep it out for you. If you want a more updated look though, you'll have to wait till I'm done here." Justin indicated his sketch book.

Daphne tried to frown, but burst out laughing instead. "Fine, I suppose I'll have to be happy with some lame drawings." She ducked to avoid the cushion that came flying her way. "Why are you avoiding him, Justin? I think you should make a play for him. Show him what he's missing. Show him what an ass he was the first time round."

"Daph, you don't get it. Brian Kinney is fucking perfect. There is no way that he would settle for someone like me, either in this lifetime or the next." Justin sighed. _Damn_ Chris Hobbs. Damn Brian Kinney. "At any rate, Brian doesn't _do_ relationships. Todd from Babylon was very informative. It's incredible, the amount of information you can get by giving amazing head."

"Eeewwww! I _don't_ want to know. Anyway, who cares what this Todd said? Now that Brian is more mature, and out, and hot on you - and if he isn't, we'll make him - you'll work your magic and be the one to change him. And stop putting yourself down - you're more perfect than Brian Kinney could ever hope to be, Chris Hobbs or no Chris Hobbs."

"Daph, you _really_ don't get it. I don't _want_ to change Brian. That would be manipulating him. In the improbable event that he shows any sustained interest in me, it would be nice if any change happened because he wanted it, not because I engineered it. And I'm not putting myself down; all I'm saying is that Brian is the kind of guy who looks for undamaged goods, not chipped items sold for a discount. Besides, he has never cared for what's inside; he proved that once, and he's just going to end up hurting me again, if I get too close. Now, sit and pout prettily and I'll sketch you."

But Daphne wasn't giving up so easily. "I think you're being silly and ridiculously unrealistic. This world isn't populated by Jane Austen heroes who all realize everything just in time to fix everyone's lives and live happily ever after. If you keep at this, _your_ life will end up like a Dostoyevsky novel, where everyone realizes everything two chapters before the end, when it's too late to do a goddamn thing about it. Everyone ends up with dementia and dies. Or they blow their brains out, or jump in front of moving trains. Unhappy endings, all of them.

You came to Pittsburgh to heal, right? So let's heal. Leave the dark, brooding pessimistic negative unrealistic Justin behind in Brooklyn, and become the upbeat positive I-can-do-anything go-getting sunshiny Justin! You didn't come here looking for Brian, but you found him anyway. That's some kind of cosmic sign, and it doesn't take Dr. Freud to figure that one out."

Justin smiled. "This why I love you, Daph."

Daphne gave him a faux frown. "I'm serious. Justin, let's rewrite an ending that fits."

 

* * *

 

At one thirty, Cynthia and Ted walked into Brian's office; Ted was expressionless, and Cynthia did not look too pleased.

Uh-oh, Brian thought. _Please don't tell me they failed_. Then Brian noticed that Cynthia was carrying some printouts, and Ted had some magazines. Maybe they're just pissed that they ended up having to do the grunt work. Brian could easily live with that.

Cynthia started. "As Justin Taylor's mother who's trying to organize a surprise birthday party for her son, the administrative office at PIFA was kind enough to fax me a copy of his schedule for this semester. It did take a lot of persuasion, though. Here's the schedule." Cynthia placed it on his table.

"I tried every directory imaginable, but his phone number is unlisted. There's a residence number listed for a Daphne Chanders for the address you gave though, and it's actually 36A, Isabella Street. First floor."

Ted took over.

"We also got background from the Pratt Institute, and they will be faxing in a recommendation for our latest intern momentarily. They tell me that Mr. Taylor was an exemplary student, was involved in several art-related activities and a brilliant artist, which I must apparently know, since I must have seen his portfolio. He was accepted on a full scholarship. However, in his second year there, he was the victim of a violent crime, details of which they were not at liberty to discuss. By the time Mr. Taylor was ready to resume his studies, he had needed the help of some computer to aid him, due to his injuries. This contravened the institute's strict guidelines for scholarships and they were compelled to revoke the scholarship. Mr. Taylor was unable to pay the tuition, but kept his registration open until he transferred to PIFA, right here in Pittsburgh. Pratt has nothing but good things to say about the young Mr. Taylor, and were very sorry that he was no longer studying with them. Apparently, it is our good fortune to have someone of his talent and dedication working for us. The art department is actually looking for help, Brian. We _could_ use him."

Cynthia looked sideways at Ted, who maintained his stoic expression. Since he didn't continue, she started to speak. She knew that Ted was affected by what he read, despite his demeanour.

"It wasn't so easy to find about the violent crime, though. Matching the dates given by Pratt, we were able to find a few gay bashing incidents in Brooklyn around the time, but none of the victims were called Justin Talyor. However, one of the incidents had a victim X, name withheld on request of the victim. There were articles in both _Out_ & _Advocate_ , but they featured no names and no pictures."

Ted seemed to have found his voice again. "I think the magazine Emmett meant was _Out & Proud_. Trust him to subscribe to that. They had written a series of articles on the incident, and despite the victim's obvious wish to remain anonymous, the journalist had chosen to do some ‘investigative' journalism. They never mention his name, though, but names are quite unnecessary when you see the articles. It says that the victim was an alumni of St. James Academy, here in Pittsburgh, and he was studying at a ‘leading college' in Brooklyn at the time of the bashing. He was bashed on the head by a baseball bat one evening, on his way home from some college event, apparently by someone he knew - an acquaintance of some kind. Not too clear on that point.

Each article was paired with some photographs that were taken from outside the courthouse, from which they guessed who the victim was, by matching it to yearbook photographs from St. James Academy here. We managed to get some of the magazines for you. It's definitely Justin Taylor."

Brian felt sick to his stomach.

"FUCK. Jesus fucking Christ."

Brian quickly got up and walked to the window and stared outside. Justin must have been just a kid...Brian thought of Gus, and had to struggle to keep his breakfast down. He was sickened and outraged and angry and could feel two dozen other emotions battling inside of him. But most of all, he felt an overwhelming urge to rush outside, find Justin, and hold him in his arms. And not let go.

Brian kept staring out the window, and whatever he was feeling, neither Cynthia nor Ted were privy to it.

Ted had fallen silent again, and Cynthia decided to continue.

"The judge, a conservative religious bigot - the journalist's words - refused to recognize the crime as a hate crime, apparently because the victim knew the assailant or some bullshit like that. The guy got a conditionally suspended sentence. Community service, naturally, a fine, and he had to pay the victim's medical bills. Christian Hobbs, that's the guy's name."

" _What?"_ Brian whipped around so fast that both Ted and Cynthia took a step backward. No way, Brian thought. It's not possible.

"Christian Hobbs. His name was released, unlike Justin's. Some psycho loser from Atlanta. As in Georgia. He had come to New York on a football scholarship, and I guess he decided to hang around. It says that he was working in Brooklyn. I've got a picture of him, if you want."

Brian continued to remain silent, and had gone back to staring out of the window. Ted put the magazines on the table, and quietly walked out, and after some hesitation, Cynthia followed suit.

Brian didn't have to look at the picture. He knew it was the same Chris Hobbs.

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	7. Chapter 7

Justin Griffith. Justin Taylor. Chris Hobbs. Justin Griffith. Justin Taylor. Chris Hobbs. Justin Griffith Justin Taylor Chris Hobbs Justin Griffith Justin Taylor Chris Hobbs. Justin Griffith Taylor Hobbs Justin Griffith Taylor Hobbs Justin Griffith Taylor Hobbs Justin Griffith Taylor Hobbs Justin Griffith Taylor Hobbs JustinHobbs JustinHobbJustinHobbsJustinJustinJustinJustinJustinJustinJustinJustinJustin.

Brian stood at the window for a long time. Cynthia, he guessed, had made sure he was undisturbed because no one came in to see him, and there were no calls. He heard his cell phone vibrate several times, but Brian couldn't give a damn who it was or why. He knew that if something happened to Gus, Ted would be in here, and everyone else could wait.

Brian was desperate to talk to someone.  There were too many emotions inside him, too many feelings, too much confusion, that he felt the need to unload on to somebody,  _any_ body, else.  Brian sighed. But who? Mikey was out of the question...and for some reason, he didn't want to tell Lindsay. According to Brian, the distance between Lindsay mouth and Melanie's ears was the shortest distance in the whole universe. Ted was perhaps the only person Brian could really talk to, but deep down, Brian felt that it was wrong to talk to anyone. This was Justin's life, and Brian really had no right to discuss it with anybody.

Which brought him back to Justin. Ok. Let's try and take this one confusing point at a time, he thought.

This  _was_  Justin Griffith. That's why he had looked so familiar. That smile...it  _had_  to be him...right? Brian thought of Justin Griffith. The Justin Brian remembered had his hair long, like a hippie, usually coloured black. As far as Brian could remember, it had never been blonde. And he had worn glasses. Absolutely hideous looking contraptions. He had been almost painfully shy, and Brian didn't ever remember Justin being able to look anyone in the eyes while talking to them. He had been a bit like Mikey, but with far more innocence, and far less whiny petulance. And he had been young. Brian tried to remember...Justin had been what, 16? 15? 14? Somewhere thereabouts. Brian didn't think he had ever really known Justin's age. The kid had been super bright, and he had been bumped up several grades, though again, Brian couldn't be sure exactly which grade. _Did I ever even bother to find out?_

He remembered having come to Justin's rescue several times; Justin was a prime target for bullies, he was way too young, way too shy, his parents way too rich...jeez, Brian could come up with three dozen reasons. Then he had been roped in by some teacher to help Justin out in...Brian frowned...chemistry. That was it. But Brian was pretty sure that the hero worshipping had started earlier. Not that Justin had been too obvious about it, but Brian knew. The kid had worshipped the ground he walked on. And Brian had liked it. He had felt sorry for Justin, and had been flattered by the attention. Brian had been amused by the carefully picked items that Justin had casually given him, pretending that he had no use for them, when Brian knew that they had been handpicked and purchased especially for him. But mostly, he had actually liked the quiet, shy boy's obvious intelligence.   

But why Taylor? Why the change of name? And why the fuck was he acting as if didn't know Brian from Adam? Well, a little voice inside Brian's head said (why did his conscience always sound like Lindsay?),  _maybe it's because you screwed him and left him._

Fuck. Brian's head was throbbing. He hadn't meant to. In fact, he hadn't meant to sleep with Justin at all. Brian had always been careful; he had never slept around with  _anyone_  from school or the neighbourhood or essentially anyone who would know who he was. Brian had had a plan and was not about to let his sex drive get in the way.

There was no way Brian was going to suffer the same existence that his miserable parents had. He was getting a college education, come hell or high water, and he was going to become somebody. Except that there was no way Jack Kinney would be able to afford college for his son, and Brian was not keen on spending his first ten years out of college paying off student loans. That's when he had thought of getting a football scholarship. With careful engineering, Brian could almost guarantee to make it happen. He knew that if he got on the good side of bible thumping coach Walter Hobbs, he would be set. Hobbs had all the right connections, and Brian knew for a fact that he pulled all the right strings for those he deemed worthy. So what if he had to pretend to be straight? That had not been a problem at all for Brian.

Until Justin. But he hadn't been able to help himself with Justin. The kid so obviously adored him, and what Brian had never admitted to himself was that he had liked Justin as well. One night Brian had bumped into Justin after practice, and against his better judgment, he had let Justin talk him into walking up to the river, and Brian had never enjoyed himself more, and as the evening progressed, he had never been more attracted to any person as he was to Justin. Still, Brian couldn't quite excuse himself for the colossal lapse of judgment that had led to him sleeping with Justin that night. In public. The fact that his dick got hard just thinking about it? That just made everything worse. 

Brian recalled having a fairly ugly scene with Justin the following day. Justin had come to him, lit up like the Fourth of July, quite possibly expecting a declaration of love from Brian. Justin was a problem that Brian had  _not_  been ready, or prepared, to deal with. He had told Justin that all the night before had been was a pity fuck and that he was not in the habit of taking ass from faggots. That he had just felt sorry for Justin, who was so clearly out of touch with the world around him. Had he said anything more? Brian really couldn't remember. That was when Brian had seen Chris Hobbs, Walter's son. Brian couldn't remember what he had told Chris as he walked away from Justin, but he knew it couldn't have been anything complimentary to poor Justin. Brian never knew whether Justin had heard, but he never ever seen the boy again.

Until three days ago. At the diner. Brian was almost certain that it was the same Justin. It just  _had_  to be. And it  _definitely_  was the same Chris fucking Hobbs. Brian felt surge of rage explode through him. If he could get his hands around Chris's throat, Brian had no doubt as to what the result would be. He was almost tempted to ask Cynthia to find out where Hobbs was, but then decided against it. Right now, Brian had far more important things to worry about.

Like how the hell he was going to deal with Justin. Brian desperately wanted to talk to him, but the more he thought about it, the more absurd it was. Justin clearly wanted the bashing to remain a secret, so how was Brian supposed to talk about it? And what the fuck would he say, anyway? Brian Kinney did _not_ do emotion. Which must be why this truckload of shit got dumped at my doorstep, he thought grimly. How do I tell Justin that I know who he is, when that is obviously  _not_  what he wants? Brian had far more questions than he had answers. Above all, he wanted to apologize to Justin to for being such a dick ten years ago, but that, out of all possible courses of action, was probably the stupidest thing he could do, Brian thought.

Brian took all the papers and magazines on his table and shoved them in his briefcase. As long as I'm having a migraine, I might as well have it at the loft, he thought. Vance will just have to manage on his own.

* * *

 

_**Day 4  (from the day of the bet)** _

 

Lindsay had called Justin on a fluke and found him at his studio, as his class had apparently been cancelled. She told Justin that she would drop by, but kept the exact time vague on purpose.

Both Emmett and Debbie had told her that Brian had been asking about Justin yesterday. Lindsay didn't know what it was, but she could sense something between Brian and Justin. She recalled her conversation with Melanie about it. Melanie had told her in no uncertain terms that she shouldn't interfere in other people's lives, especially when they had very little information to go on, but Lindsay couldn't help it. Mel doesn't get it, she thought. Sometimes, you don't go by tangible facts. You go by gut feel and emotions and looks and signs and inexplicable feelings that are too complex and deep to understand off the cuff. 

I'm so sorry Mel, Lindsay thought, as she dialed a number.

"What is it now?"

"Be nice Brian, I'm about to help you. How would you like to drive me to Justin's studio? I  _assure_ you, there are no one-way roads there. Don't ask me why I'm helping you instead of Mel, but I am. You drop me at Justin's place, go and park somewhere, and come on up once I call you, ok?" Lindsay was greeted by silence.

"Brian?"

"What?"

" _Okay?_ "

A longer pause. "Okay."

Lindsay sighed. Brian could be so difficult.

 

* * *

 

Lindsay could tell that Brian was in a very strange mood. The drive to Justin's had been mostly silent, and Brian seemed clearly preoccupied. Brian finally broke the silence, though not at all in the way Lindsay had expected.

"Why are you doing this, Lindz? I think it's quite apparent that Justin can't stand me. What are you hoping to achieve?"

"Huh? I...I think he's just afraid of you, Brian. Look, it won't hurt to meet him casually, would it? And I'll be there to chaperone as well...or make an early exit if the scene so requires...Brian? What exactly is going on? What is it that you're not telling me?"

"And we're here. Buzz me when you need me."

Clearly, Brian was done talking. Ugh. If the man had been just a little less emotionally stunted, she thought.

Lindsay went upstairs, just as Justin was locking his door.

"Oh, hey Lindsay! I thought you weren't coming..."

Lindsay smiled apologetically. "I got held up at the gallery. Are you on your way out?"

"I was just going to run down to the deli and grab something to eat. Do you want to join me? Or you could wait inside...I shouldn't be more than ten or fifteen minutes."

Perfect, Lindsay thought. "I'll just wait here. I hope you don't mind, I had to get some papers from Brian, so I asked him to meet me here since I was running late."

Justin gave her an easy smile. "Sure, no problem."

And that's how it's done, Lindsay thought. As soon as Justin left, she called Brian and asked him to come upstairs.

When Brian finally came upstairs, they walked around looking at the paintings that Justin had unpacked. She let him look around for a while before she said anything. "Well? What do you think? Isn't his work incredible? Justin is definitely going to go places."

Lindsay noticed that Brian seemed mesmerized. "He's going to go lots of places, Lindz. Pratt must be out of their fucking mind to have said no."

What did he just say?

"Huh? Pratt said no? What are you talking about?"

Brian sighed. "Nothing. Justin mentioned that Pratt had to withdraw their scholarship on some technicality. That's all."

Lindsay raised her eyebrows. Brian was _definitely_  keeping something from her.

"Right." That was when Lindsay noticed the open sketch pad. It looked like the same one Justin had been doodling on at her place. It lay open on a drawing of a young woman with frizzy hair, laughing. It was a pencil sketch. Lindsay flipped the page and stared.  

"Brian? Take a look at this, will you?" She walked up to Brian, who was standing by the far window, and gave the sketch pad to him, watching his face go from blank to surprise to unreadable.

Neither Lindsay nor Brian noticed Justin quietly entering the room.

"That's a portrait of you, Brian. Justin obviously wants you...looks like you'll win the bet after all. Knowing you, you'll be sleeping with him before the sun sets today. Three days to spare. We should've known"

"You had a bet? To see if you could sleep with me?" Justin's face was devoid of any expression whatsoever, but his eyes were flashing.

 

* * *

 

Unfuckingbelievable, Justin thought. They actually took a bet to see if he'd be able to sleep with me? He was disappointed in Lindsay and furious with Brian. And I was actually foolish enough to think that...no, don't even go there, Justin thought. Just play it cool. Brian doesn't need to know you care.

"You had a bet? To see if you could sleep with me?" He watched Lindsay's eyes widen in shock, and even Brian had trouble hiding his chagrin in seeing Justin there. Justin continued to speak before either of them could say anything. "Well, sorry to inform you Brian, but that's one bet you're going to be losing. I have absolutely no desire to have sex with you in any manner or form."

"Justin, I'm so sorry, we didn't mean -" Lindsay was cut off mid-sentence by Brian, who covered the distance between Justin and himself, sketch pad in hand.

"No desire to have sex with me? In any manner or form?" Brian's was low and throaty and Justin knew he was fucked. Literally.

Lindsay, making some quick predictions of her own, quickly and quietly walked out. Justin barely registered her exit - Brian hadn't stopped talking.

"Is that why you sketched me? Several pages worth? Because you have no desire for me?"

Justin was rooted to the spot and was finding it increasingly difficult to stop his body from responding to Brian.

"I'm an artist, Brian."  _Damn it!_  Why couldn't his goddamn voice be normal?! "I draw beautiful things. Beautiful people. That's what artists do. You're a beautiful man. Doesn't mean I want to fuck you."

Brian let the sketch pad drop to the floor as he pressed his forehead against Justin's. "I'm a beautiful man. Is that what you think, Sunshine? Because I think you're the most beautiful man I ever met."

_I am SO fucked._ Justin tried to take a step back, and instead found Brian's arms encircle his waist, pressing him against Brian's body. It was impossible for Brian not to have noticed how hard Justin was, and when Justin felt Brian's parted lips on his, he thought he would explode there and then.  _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._ Justin had no concept of time, or for how long they kissed, feeling every inch of the other's body. His t-shirt had come off, as had Brian's jacket and shirt, and Justin could feel Brian undoing the button on his jeans. This is even better than the first time with Brian, Justin thought vaguely.

_First. Time. BRIAN KINNEY._ _What the fuck am I doing_ , Justin thought.  _JESUS._

Justin had to put both his hands on Brian's chest to push him off. He needed space between them. The more space the better.

"Justin -" Brian was growling, as he reached for Justin, his breathing laboured, and Justin stepped back at least three feet.

"Brian." Justin struggled with his voice. BREATHE. "Brian. I was wrong. You're beautiful and hot and I'm human and I  _do_ want you. But I don't _want_ to want you. It's just my body that wants you. I don't."

"Justin -"

"Close the door on your way out." Justin grabbed his t-shirt off the floor and practically sprinted out of his own studio.

 

* * *

 

The day had just gone from bad to worse. In fact, Brian still felt as if he was living a continuation of the previous day. Brian wasn't sure why he had agreed to accompany Lindsay to Justin's studio, but the last thing he had expected to find there were sketches of himself. And before Brian had even begun to comprehend what that could possibly mean, Justin himself had turned up. Fuck.

Every step he took closer to Justin was a step Brian knew he shouldn't take, but Brian was incapable of stopping himself. Seeing Justin, knowing who he really was...

And then one minute Justin was pulling his clothes off, clearly wanting him as much as Brian had needed Justin, and the next minute, he was ten feet away, walking out of his own studio.

Brian couldn't remember being that angry in his entire life. He was furious with Justin, with Lindsay, with Chris fucking Hobbs and most of all with himself, and he refused to think about why.

He had gone back to Vanguard ready to kill someone, but had settled for fucking Kip Thomas - some intern or coordinator or equally redundant piece of tripe - in the bathroom. Not that it helped. Brian had spent the rest of the day picking on everyone in sight before eventually heading back to the loft. Kip had turned up at the loft an hour later with some papers from the office, and the second fuck of the day proved to be as unsatisfactory as the first. Brian wasn't sure that he would have come if he hadn't imagined himself fucking a certain blonde.

Brian stared out the window, joint in one hand, a glass of scotch in the other. How the fuck did all this happen, he thought.  _And why do I feel so guilty?_

The phone started ringing, and Brian cursed. It was either Lindsay or Mikey, but Brian welcomed the distraction. Please let it be Mikey. He glanced at the caller ID and noticed that the number was blocked. Just like last week. When it rains, it pours, Brian thought.

"Hello?"

"Brian."

"Justin."

"No one needs to know you're going to lose your silly bet. Make it worth my while and I'll tell Lindsay we fucked." 

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	8. Chapter 8

**Day 5 (from the day of the bet)**

  
Lindsay was relieved that Melanie had to go to work early. She wasn't sure what kind of scene would greet her at the diner, and she very much preferred to handle it on her own. When she walked in, she realized that all she had to handle was Emmett and Ted.  
  
"Darling, it's too early in the day to be making that face! Grab yourself a coffee, and tell me all about your problems. I promise to make you feel better about yourself."  
  
Lindsay smiled at Emmett as she slid into the booth next to him. "I did something incredibly stupid and I feel awful about it."  
  
Emmett and Ted both stared at her, horrified. "You mixed plaid with print?"  
  
Lindsay laughed. "It's about Justin. And Brian." Lindsay sighed.  
  
Ted raised an eyebrow. "Spill it."  
  
"This damn stupid bet between Brian  & Mel and the rest of you. Well, except the two of us, Em. It just seemed to be getting to Brian, and I just wanted to help him out, so I took him to Justin's place yesterday...except it ended up doing more harm than good, I think."  
  
"Lindz, honey, what did you do?"  
  
"Justin overheard us talking about the bet, and he was furious! I feel simply awful."  
  
Ted was staring at her, utterly shocked. Emmett shook his head.  
  
"Oooh, Baby, that wasn't foot in the mouth, you swallowed your whole leg, didn't you? So, did Justin kick you both out?"  
  
"Actually, I walked out. I tried apologizing, but I'm not sure Justin even heard him. He had eyes only for Brian...the way those two were staring at each other, I couldn't get out of their fast enough...I did  _not_ want to watch Brian actually winning the bet. I really don't know what happened, though. I called Justin later, but he didn't answer me, though he did call back this morning. Brian just completely ignored me."  
  
"Well, I guess Teddy would know what happened to Brian, because I know that he didn't show up at Woody's or Babylon last night. Teddy?"  
  
"Um...Brian did come back to work after lunch yesterday, but he was such a tight ass prick! I mean, even more than usual. He left a bit early though." Ted looked thoughtful.  
  
"Lindsay, technically, you and I had no part in this absurd bet, so maybe you can explain that to Justin? He can't blame you for Melanie's role in it, after all."  
  
"I know, but I did take Brian there with ulterior motives. Justin seemed quite calm when I spoke to him today, and he actually agreed to my dropping by his place in the morning. I'm going to be honest and apologize and hope that he forgives me." Lindsay smiled. "Em, you did make me feel a bit better. Thank you."  
  
"That's what I'm here for! Teddy, why are you so quiet? What are  _you_ not telling us?"  
  
"Huh? Nothing, nothing. Just wondering about Brian and Justin, that's all."  
  
Lindsay looked at Ted. So she wasn't the only one who wondered about it. Oh well, time to go. She paid for her coffee and made her way to Justin's place, dreading every step.  
  
Justin was there, expecting her. I'm surprised he hasn't put all his drawings away, she thought wryly.  
  
"Look, Justin, I'm so  _so_  sorry about what happened yesterday! And that whole bet. I wasn't using you...believe me when I say that. It was juvenile, and everyone involved with it should have known better and we should have all treated you with far more respect than we did. I cannot speak for everyone, but on behalf of myself and Melanie, I want to apologize. I do hope that this doesn't signify the end of our partnership, and if it does, I suppose I deserve it. You're still welcome in our home anytime, Justin. I'm just...I'm just truly sorry."  
  
Justin smiled at her. "You're right, it was juvenile. But, it was a bet between friends, and I'm not part of your circle - no, wait, hear me out. It was stupid, you all were stupid, but it's ok. We're all adults here, no big deal. Apology accepted. Just, Lindsay, be honest with me next time, ok?"  
  
Lindsay let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding in. "Of course! I'm...this will not happen again. Believe me."  
  
Justin laughed. "You're right - this certainly won't happen again. For what it's worth though, Brian won."  
  
Lindsay stared at Justin. Huh? What  _exactly_  had happened?  
  
"You mean...you and Brian..."  
  
Justin looked sheepish. "He dropped by here later on in the evening, after I kicked him out the first time round...what can I say? I was stupid, and I couldn't resist. He was so _hot_ _!_  If you have any more friends like him Lindsay, feel free to introduce them."  
  
Lindsay stared at him. "I don't believe this. You let Brian...but why? I mean, after we were all so -"  
  
Justin cut her off. "Well, first of all, Brian is  _the_  hottest thing I  _ever_ saw. I think I would have probably let him fuck me eventually, despite my lofty claims to the contrary yesterday. I think I actually want to go to Babylon tonight. See who else I can find out there. Pittsburgh is fun!"  
  


* * *

  
**Later that same evening** _ **  
**_  
  
  
Justin leaned against the bar at Babylon, and was quite pleased with himself. It had been quite easy lying to Lindsay, when it came down to it. Justin was quite honestly able to rave about having sex with Brian - he only had to fudge the timing by ten years.  
  
But what he had enjoyed more was the conversation he had with Brian the previous evening. The more Justin had thought about, the more he thought that this was a blessing in disguise. Brian clearly wanted him; let's make him suffer for it. Daphne was right; it  _was_  time to rewrite the ending.  
  
Brian had been stumped on hearing Justin's proposition, and it had taken no effort to convince Brian to agree.

Emmett was speaking to him. "Baby, you look hot! Every man here is cruising you!"  
  
Justin smiled. He knew he looked hot. He looked better than hot; he was smoldering.  _You just wait, Brian Kinney. Two can play this game.  
_  
"So you actually did it with Brian?" Michael looked none too pleased.  
  
"Michael! Now that's just rude. You don't have to answer him, he's been crabby this whole week."  
  
Justin smiled. "We fucked on the floor in my studio. Twice. Ruined a canvas in the process, though. Then I sucked him off, and I give fucking  _amazing_ head, as some lucky man here tonight is going to find out." Justin grinned. "Brian. Michael was just asking me about yesterday. You can finish telling him how I sucked you off. I'm off to make someone else lucky now."   
  
He placed his hand low on Brian's stomach as he spoke.  _Very_ low. "You owe me a canvas, by the way. Though, I suppose that stain will make for some very interesting art." And then Justin gave Brian a dazzling smile before making his way onto the dance floor.   
  
Justin could feel Brian's eyes on him, so he deliberately picked a guy that wasn't in Brian's mould.  _How about I show you what you supposedly got yesterday?  
_  
Justin steered clear from Brian for the rest of evening, though he made it a point to be in his peripheral vision. ‘Kinney can't take his eyes off you' was something Justin heard more than once that evening. Good. It was taking a lot of effort on Justin's part to appear so cool and unaffected, but it was worth it, knowing that he was getting to Brian. I was a go-go dancer, Justin thought. This should be a piece of cake.  _I don't have to work the crowd, just one customer. Don't think about anything._  
  
Justin waited till Brian went into the backroom before he handpicked a partner for the show, and placed himself in Brian's peripheral vision before proceeding to give head worthy of a porn star.   
  


* * *

 

Brian couldn't keep his eyes off Justin. The blonde was off dancing with some asshole again, and Brian had to will himself to stay where he was instead of dragging Justin off to the loft to fuck himself into oblivion. The entire evening, he had managed corner Justin just once.  
  
"So, when are you planning on collecting your due, Sunshine?"  
  
Justin had smiled at him and said "When I need something." And then he had been gone, on to the dance floor, hands in the air and ass shaking.  
  
Brian shook himself. He had watched the blonde in the backroom.  _Fuck._ Justin knew who he was, he had to. What in hell's name was he doing? Brian wondered if he was being played, or whether Justin truly didn't give a shit anymore.  
  
_How do I tell him?_  
  
"Brian? Brian?"  
  
"Yes, Theodore?"  
  
"Are you really promoting Kip as the Assistant Art Director? I thought he wasn't that good."  
  
"What? Are you on crack? Kip does excellent paste-ups, but that's about all he'll ever do. Why on earth would I promote him?"  
  
" Aah, well, I just heard him telling someone that, I guess I must have misheard him."  
  
"I can't believe Justin asked you to replace a canvas. He's too cocky. I don't like him."  
  
"Mikey, you don't like anyone I end up fucking. What else is new?" Brian watched Justin made his way out of Babylon, armed with a Craig Daniel wannabe.  
  
Michael glared at him. "You could have just dragged him into the backroom and fucked him again, without staring at him all evening. You've been so fucking weird these days, Brian."   
  
Brian didn't bother answering him.  
  


* * *

 

**Several days later** _  
  
_  
Justin cursed himself as he walked to the diner. It had been almost a week since he saw Brian last. In fact, he hadn't even had time to meet Lindsay; he had just been getting her to drop the notes off so that he could work on them later. Justin had been up to his eyebrows with classes; he had forgotten what it was like to actually have to do projects again. He didn't mind the work, but he did mind that he hadn't seen Brian for days. How was he supposed to make Brian suffer if he didn't even meet the man? Ugh. He probably can't remember if I'm blue or green anymore.  
  
He saw Lindsay, Melanie, Ted and Michael sitting together at a booth. They all looked utterly miserable. I wonder what the matter is, Justin thought.  
  
"Hi, Justin. Are you going to join us, or are you and Lindsay leaving?"  
  
"Hey Mel. Just wanted to drop off these sketches. Didn't expect to see you here."  
  
He could hear Michael speaking.  
  
" - poor Brian."  
  
Justin tried to be as casual as possible. "Poor Brian? Why, what happened to him?"  
  
"He's being sued for sexual harassment."  
  
_"What?" I don't believe this._  
  
For some strange reason, it was Ted who continued with the explanation. "There's this guy at work, Kip Thomas. Brian apparently fucked him once, or twice -"  
  
"Twice" Melanie corrected him.  
  
" - ok so twice, and now Kip is saying that Brian promised him a promotion to get his dick sucked off."  
  
"As if Brian needs to promise anyone anything to get laid. Poor Brian."  
  
Michael was seriously annoying, Justin thought. "So now everyone's sitting around feeling sorry for Brian?"  
  
"Well, I'm actually waiting for Brian; he's running some errand hereabouts, and should be here anytime. The Discovery is in a couple of days, I want to go over the notes with him, make sure that we aren't missing anything." Melanie looked a bit worried.  
  
Michael was defensive. "Well, it's not like we can do anything, you know. Apart from Mel, that is."  
  
"What are the odds?" Justin wished Michael would just shut up, so he could talk to Melanie and Ted. "I mean, of this Kip guy being successful?"  
  
"At this point, it's really more like he said, she said. Or, he said, he said. So I'm not sure that Kip will really have enough evidence for a legal claim. Honestly, I think any sensible judge will throw the case out. But, he'll probably file a claim with the EEOC - that's the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission - and that could drag awhile, because they are notorious for their backlog. The longer it takes, the longer Brian will be on admin leave, and the further his reputation in the industry will sink, whichever way the case will ultimately get settled. I need to make this case disappear as fast as possible, but a settlement will make Brian look guilty, and Vanguard will let him go for sure."  
  
"What a fucking moron."  _Brian, you never think, do you? How do you plan to get yourself out of this?_  
  
"Kip? I know."  
  
"No, Michael. I meant Brian."  
  
"What are you talking about? You're actually blaming Brian just because Kip is an asshole?" Michael was looking at Justin as if he had two heads.  
  
"Well  _of course_ I'm blaming him. This is vintage Kinney. Sticking his dick anywhere it fits and worrying about the consequences later. Brian should have thought of the fact that Kip is an asshole  _before_ he fucked him." Justin could feel his mercury rising.  _This_  was Brian's best friend? He was such a fucking enabler. Gus probably had a higher IQ than him. He was also furious with Brian. Stupid fucking  _idiot.  
_  
Justin's temper was matched by Michael. His voice had gone up by at least an octave. "Who the hell do you think you are to judge Brian? He's had a tough life, ok? Not everyone was blessed with your country club existence."  
  
"Michael..."Ted's tone held ample warning in it, but it was completely lost on both Michael and Justin.  
Justin looked incredulously at Michael, and felt ten years worth of anger and frustration bubbling to the surface.  
  
"Tough life?  _Tough life???_  I'm  _soooooo_ sorry to have been so harsh on the oldest case of arrested development north of the Mason-Dixon Line." He was too worked up to notice the looks of warning both Lindsay and Melanie were shooting his way. Justin was on a roll.  
  
"Poor  _dear_ Brian. It must be  _soooo_ emotionally and mentally stunting, having to grow up in a broken home - just like three  _million_ other Americans, who, I'm sure, are all being sued for sexual harassment as we speak."  
  
Justin's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, and how can I forget, the poor fellow is gay! It must have been _traumatizing_ , growing up as a homosexual in an unsupportive family. Oh, the horror of it! I mean, sure, there must be a million other Americans who are in the same situation, but whose counting, right? This explains perfectly why he's so emotionally dead that he has this inexplicable - oops, that's  _explicable_  now, right? - "  
  
"Justin -" Lindsay tried interrupting him again, but failed. Michael was glaring at him, but he couldn't get a word in edgewise against Justin's diatribe either.  
  
" - to fuck every man on the East coast. I've heard of a million other gay men suffering from the same affliction. Caused by their ‘tough life'. The country club set excluded, of course. So now the long-suffering Brian finds himself neck deep in shit after fucking the wrong guy. Frankly, with this cheering squad, I'm surprised that something like this didn't happen sooner. My heart  _bleeds_  for Brian. So, what happens now? We wring our hands and hold pity parties and hope that Melanie can wave her magic wand and make this just disappear?"  
  
Ted and Melanie were each staring at their coffee cups with unusual intensity. Lindsay had buried her forehead in her palm. Only Michael was glowering at Justin, and now that Justin had finally finished, he spoke. "Listen, you little shit, you can't walk in here and talk about -"  
  
"Yeah, whatever." Justin cut him off. "Unfuckingbelievable." He muttered, and turned around to leave, only to bump straight into Brian, who was standing right behind, arms folded across his chest, expression unreadable. He had clearly been standing there for some time.  _Damn it_.  
  
"Sunshine, you're leaving the pity party so soon?"  
  
"Yup. Have my country club life to get back to."  


* * *

  
  
Lindsay didn't know if she felt more sorry for Brian for having to hear all that, or for Justin, for having been overheard by Brian. I wish Justin had at least looked at me long enough for me to signal something, she thought. Brian remained standing, and he was addressing Michael.  
  
"Michael, what the fuck was that?"  
  
"What did it look like? I was defending my best friend, asshole. You should try it sometime."  
  
"Try what, your judge first, think later approach? I'll keep that in mind for a day when I'm feeling particularly inane."  
  
Michael stared at Brian, open-mouthed. "You're  _defending_  him? After all the shit he said, you're defending that fucking -"  
  
"Lay off him, Michael." Brian's voice was dangerously flat.  
  
" _What??_ You fuck him once and suddenly he gets to -"  
  
"I  _said_ lay off him. I'm not going to say this again." The two men glared at each other.  
  
"As  _I_ said," Melanie spoke, ignoring the tension in the air "I like Justin. He says what needs to be said...and that must be some strange post coital talk you had with Justin, Brian. All that personal family history...and as much as I would love to analyze that point further, you and I have more important things to discuss. Come on, let's move somewhere quieter, and I'll tell you what I want you to do."  
  
As Brian and Melanie moved to another table, Lindsay noticed that it was Ted's turn to stare after Brian.  
  


* * *

  
_**  
** _

Justin hadn't quite calmed down when he got to his studio, and finding a delivery guy standing outside his door didn't help matters much.  
  
"Are you Justin Taylor? Have a personal delivery here, if you can show me some ID and sign for this please."  
  
"I didn't order anything."  
  
"Says right here. Justin Taylor."  
  
So it did. Justin was tired, but curious. After getting the oddly wrapped package inside, Justin opened it. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this. He found a graphics software designed specifically for cartoons and comics, a set of charcoals, paints, brushes and a multipurpose portfolio. And a canvas roll.  
  
Justin slumped down against the wall, and waited a long while before he opened the card.  
  
_Sunshine,_  
  
Thank you.  
  
B.   
  
Justin took a deep breath, and then he pulled out his phone. The person on the other end picked up after four rings.  
  
"Hey, Justin here. Listen, Cody, can you come up to Pittsburgh urgently? There's a problem I need to take care of, and I need your help." **  
**

 

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	9. Chapter 9

Daphne was curled up on the arm chair, and she was watching Justin, who sat cross legged on the floor. "Where'd Cody go?"  
  
"He's in my room. He had to make some calls, so I thought I'd give him some privacy."  
  
"Why did you ask Cody to come? Why him?"  
  
"I can do a lot of things, but I know when I need help. Let's be honest. If there was any way that was legal to get Kip to drop the charges, Brian and Melanie would have already thought of that. That means that whatever I do, I'll probably end up bending the rules if not downright breaking them...and as long as I'm doing that, I figure that I'd like to have an expert on my side. Besides which, you're the only friend I have, and I'm not getting you involved, and I need help. Who else could I ask? Cody would never say no to the chance to get his fingers bloodied."  
  
"Justin, why would he drop everything to come running to Pittsburgh to help you? Do you really trust him? After everything?"  
  
Justin laughed. "He runs a tattoo parlour, Daph. Not much to drop, hm?" Justin suddenly became more pensive. "Cody and I...after Hobbs, I was a mess. I spent months running with Cody's gang, thinking...I don't know what I thought. It was like every straight man I met was an extension of Hobbs, and I just...I just had to make him pay. Cody...he understood what it felt like Daph, being put down, being nobody, just because you were gay, and he wasn't afraid to do something about it. Still isn't. I'm not saying that what he's doing - or what I did as part of the Pink Posse - is right. But I get it. I kind of respect him. And when he gave me that gun to shove down Hobbs, he was trying to help me. And it did, though not in the way that he probably thought. I'm grateful for that. Do I trust him? Yeah...he lives by a strange code, and I'm one of his people.  
  
And I know that he respects me; as angry as he still is that I never pulled that trigger, he respects me. Because I got bashed in the head and made it through. Because I held my own in his group, and even when his own crowd left him, I still stood by him. I walked away only when I was confronted with my own demon."  
  
"Brian better appreciate all this. At least unconsciously, since he'll never find out...the things you do for love." Daphne mused.  
  
Justin snorted. "My love life is more like a science experiment gone wrong instead of..."Justin belatedly realized what he was saying. "Who says I'm still in love with Brian?!"  
  
Daphne laughed "And all this..." she gestured with her hands, "is what, exactly? I don't know if you think I'm foolish enough to believe that line, but I know you can't possibly be deluding yourself that way." She looked up as Cody walked in with three beers. "So, let me know when I should keep the peroxide and bandages ready. When you two walk in all bloody and bruised after beating Kip into a pulp, I want to be prepared."  
  
"We are  _not_ beating Kip up."  
  
Daphne looked at Cody in surprise. "But I thought...that's what you guys used to do..."  
  
Cody laughed humourlessly. "Thanks for that vote of confidence. As I told Justin when he called me, there is no point in beating this guy up, hoping that he'll do what we say. At the very best, he won't do shit. At the very worst, he'll eventually identify us, and apart from Kinney facing harassment charges, Justin and I will be up for aggravated assault. But, I  _have_  been thinking about this. What we need is a plan. We need to play Kip's game and beat him at it. Justin, did you check what the statute of limitation is for sexual harassment?"  
  
"Yup. 180 days to file a complaint from the date of incident with the Board, and some 2 years from the date of their report to file it in court. It seemed utterly confusing, though. I think it's 300 days if you go straight for a law suit."  
  
"Yeah...well, we can't keep beating Kip to a pulp on a 180-day cycle till all his time limits run out. Whatever we do, it has to last longer than his 2 year statue."  
  
Justin sighed in frustration. "We have no money and no power. We've been discussing for hours now. What the fuck are we supposed to do?"  
  
"Well, his story is just bullshit." Daphne said. "According to Melanie, it damages Brian more in terms of the fallout from the industry and his reputation than any actual legal repercussions, right?"  
  
"Exactly!" Cody's eyes were dangerously alive. "We just need a bullshit story that damages Kip more. Only difference is, Kip needs to know that we can back up whatever claim we make. If he doesn't drop the suit, we _will_  see our game played out to the end, and unlike his claims, we'll have the evidence stacked on our side. Something a little more than he said, she said. And when Kip realizes that, I'm sure we can all come to a suitable agreement with the devious Mr.Thomas."  
  
"Cody, what  _exactly_  do you have in mind?" Well, at least he has a plan, Justin thought. But given that it was Cody, Justin wondered how many laws he would be expected to break before the week was up.  
  
"Kip has 2 ½ years over Brian's head. I did some research. Major felonies in Pennsylvania carry a statute of limitation of five years. Sex crimes are twelve years. We can't pin a murder on him, so we'll have to let that be for a while."  
  
Daphne looked at Justin, but Justin had his eyes trained on Cody.  
  
Cody continued. "We need to pin one of two crimes on him: aggravated assault or sexual assault."  
  
" _What??_ " Justin and Daphne both stared at him. Oh fucking Christ, Justin thought, why does my life keep running in loops?  
  
"What what? Get your head out of your asses, kids. How did you think this was going to play out? The man has accused someone of sexual harassment. He stands to gain, whichever way you look at it. Exactly  _how_ do you think you're going to stop him, short of a pay-off? By all means, if you think this Melanie can make the charges go away, let's wait and see. But we all know that's not going to happen; Kip filed the charges expecting to gain  _something_ , so he's going to play it out as long as he can. What do you suppose is going to scare a man who is already indulging in fraud and blackmail? If you wanna play safe, go ahead. I'll head back to Brooklyn and you can let me know what happened.   
  
The world's not a pretty place, and people are assholes. The guy who took a bat to your head is still wearing a hardhat, never having seen the inside of a jail cell. How exactly do you see this chapter ending, Justin? Kip miraculously paying for his sins within the confines of what society considers right? Do you want to do what's right, or what'll work?"  
  
Justin sighed. "So what exactly is this plan of yours?"  
  
"My plan, is in fact, extremely simple, and extremely doable, and, I dare say, will be extremely successful. I follow Kip on evening, I'll slip him a roofie and then you seduce him long enough to get him back to his place. All drugged out, it shouldn't be too difficult, and it's not like he'll remember anything anyway, so who really gives a shit what you say to get him there? I'll join you, we'll say we wanna do it rough and kinky, and a few photographs later, our job is done. Be around in the morning when he comes to, pretend that you're as gone as he is and he won't suspect a thing. Once you leave him, then  _you_ take a roofie and get tested for it within 72 hours, before it leaves your system. I'll roughen you up a bit, and then we'll have more pictures highlighting Kip's handiwork. Make sure to stay out of school and anywhere else people might see you. No risks. We'll wait out 72 hours till the drug has passed through Kip's system, because if he gets tested for it, we're screwed. Then we go to Kip with photos and the blood test, and he's looking at a serious case of sexual assault. Which we can trump up any time within the next twelve years. This guy is going to drop his suit faster than lightning. If you're game, I can get the drugs. Justin? "  
  
Daphne burst out laughing. "You  _cannot_  be serious!" Then she saw Cody's expression, and she blanched. "Guys, come on! This is retarded! You can't just go around drugging people and accusing them of rape!"  
  
Why am I not surprised that this is what Cody came up with, Justin thought. He thought the cure to all my problems was to blow Chris Hobbs's brains out.   
  
"Cody, seriously, isn't that a bit...drastic? Not to mention...I dunno...gee, let's see... _DANGEROUS???ILLEGAL???"_  
  
"It's not dangerous if you stick to the plan."  
  
"Are you kidding me?" Daphne stared at Cody. " _Stick to the plan?_  What if Kip figures it out? What if...what if...Jesus, we could all go to jail for this!"   
  
"Daphne's right. Look, why do we have to make it so complicated? I could hook up with Kip, let him fuck me, and then claim that he raped me. It would be pretty much the same thing, minus all the jail-baiting."  
  
Cody scoffed. "Same thing? How is it the same thing? You won't have a shred of evidence to support your claim, and Kip will know it. And it will take Kip, and the cop he goes to screaming blackmail, exactly half a day to figure out that you're working with the mother of Brian Kinney's son. The same man Kip is trying to sue. Do you really think anyone will take you seriously?"  
  
"I'm still working with Lindsay. Kip can still take half a day to come to the same conclusion."  
  
"If he isn't dead first" Daphne mumbled.  
  
Cody glared at Daphne. "Justin, don't be an idiot. We'll have  _evidence_. Even if Kip links you to Kinney, big fucking deal. We still have the dirt on him. Your connection to Kinney then just becomes coincidence in the eyes of the law. Don't you two get it? Whatever you go tell Kip, you need to be able to substantiate it."  
  
"Look, there has  _got_ to be another way."  
  
"Great. Why don't you both tell me what this  _other way_  is? Aside from beating Kip to a pulp on a 180-day cycle, that is."  
  
Justin looked at Daphne, the desperation in his eyes meeting the worry in hers. "This is like fucking Sophie's Choice - do nothing or do the preposterous!"  
  
"Yeah well, at least Sophie made her fucking choice. You do what you have to do. I don't see you two coming up with  _any_ viable plans, and the clock is ticking."  
  
"What if Kip ODs? What if Justin does? What if they both do?" Daphne waited for Cody to answer.  
  
"Look, if Kip ODs, Justin obviously won't be taking anything. Kip won't OD - we won't give him so much anyway. Look, we're spinning a story, we just need him to be relaxed and play along, and remember very little of it. We don't have to drug him enough to make him unconscious throughout all of it. He'll wake up with Justin, and that's why he won't suspect anything."  
  
"But still..."  
  
"Look, if something happens, we'll make an anonymous 911 call. As for Justin, he just needs to take a minimum dose the next day, just to make sure something turns up in his blood stream." Cody looked at Daphne. "You can give it to him, go with him for the blood test and be by his side for 48 hours monitoring him, while I deal with Kip."  
  
"How can you be so blasé about this?!" Daphne wasn't quite screaming, but her indignation was evident.  
  
"Jesus, woman, I'm not being blasé, I'm being practical. You need Kip off Brian's back, in record time, and nobody has a fucking clue on how to achieve that. I've come up with the best damn plan so far, one that is practically guaranteed to work. I don't know who this Brian is, and frankly, I don't care. This Kip sounds like an utter moron, and I don't see why he should be allowed to get away with this. It's faggots like him that gives us all a bad name. You two are so fucking worried about poor Kip - how much thought do you think he gave Kinney before he decided to screw him over?"  
  
Cody looked at Justin. "Do you think Chris Hobbs learnt his lesson, Justin? Do you think that the homosexuals of Brooklyn have nothing to fear from him? Or do you think that every night, he tells him to himself, I got away with it once, and if I want to, I can get away with it again. They can put a gun in my mouth, but they will never pull the trigger. How many lives do you think Kip Thomas is going ruin before he learns his lesson?"  
  
Justin felt bile rise in his stomach. "I...I need to go out. Clear my head."

 

 

** End Notes: **

I always felt that the show glossed over the suit, because in all honesty, Justin didn't have much to hold over Kip's head. So this is my take on how it could have gone. All the laws, statutes etc I quoted are accurate as far as I know. All my research was via the internet.       

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	10. Chapter 10

**Later on in the evening, on the same day**  
  
  
  
Justin noticed Emmett and Ted engrossed in a game of pool as he walked into Woody's that evening. He kept his head down and took a seat at the bar, placing his phone on the counter top and ordering himself a drink. Justin needed to clear his head. Three million thoughts were competing inside his head for attention.  
  
He realized what Cody was saying. The rational side of Justin knew that for once, Cody wasn't just blowing hot air. If he wanted to get Kip off Brian's back, he would have to get his hands dirty.  
  
But getting his hands dirty and going along with Cody's plan were two entirely different things. This wasn't just  _a_  plan, it was downright diabolical. Justin could actually live with that, if the whole thing wasn't so damn dangerous. Any number of things could go wrong, and Justin wasn't sure that he and Cody were quite equipped to handle it. Well, maybe Cody was. Jesus, what if Kip overdoses? Cody had assured Justin that he wouldn't, but still...it was a very real risk, one that Justin did not want to have to take.  
  
In all honesty, Justin was certain that he could pull it off though, together with Cody. Cody was a street kid, so to speak. He sought out violence as a hobby. But he was also razor sharp. In that sense, Cody reminded Justin of Brian. Cody had never picked fights at random; it was always carefully preplanned to cause maximum damage and minimum of harm to Cody himself. And this plan was sharp. Sharp and dangerous.  
  
And his thoughts kept drifting to Hobbs. Cody was right.  _I let him get away. Maybe it was the right thing to do, but I let him get away. And I'll never know if he learnt his lesson. I'll never be sure that he won't do to someone else what he did to me. I let him get away with it. Am I going to let Kip get away too?  
_  
Justin was also scared about himself. Not that he wouldn't be able to pull it off, but he was scared that he _would_  be able to pull it off. He knew he had a habit of losing his head when it came to Brian; if he had acted with a little more common sense and prudence, he could have avoided the whole mess with Hobbs. But he had been so excited at the thought of meeting Brian again, that he had thrown caution to the wind. And we all know how that one ended, Justin thought grimly. And here I go again. This is like the plot from a bad Hollywood movie.  _Derailed - The Sequel_ , maybe. Ugh. Justin felt his stomach do somersaults.  
  
_Brian_. Brian was depending solely on Melanie. What if...what if she couldn't wave her magic wand and make this disappear? What would Brian do then? Even if he was found innocent of all this, and Melanie had seemed fairly certain of it, what price would Brian end up paying? Vanguard would let him go, and then who would hire him? Who would want to work for a man with this reputation? And why should Brian have to pay at all, just because Kip was a jackass?  
  
As much as Justin had vented about Brian in the diner (and he had meant every word of it), Justin didn't believe for a moment that Brian deserved this. Yes, it was very poor judgment on his part, but Brian had never meant any harm. Did he deserve to lose his career, his reputation, everything he had worked so hard for, over a poor judgment call? How did the Craigs, Chrises and Kips get to wander around the planet despite their inherent evil, while Brian was going to have to suffer for making a stupid mistake?  
  
_Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for love. How far am I willing to go?  
_  
_Is this how I'm supposed to rescue Brian? Rescue myself? Or is there another turn ahead that I'm supposed to take? How do I know what the right turn is?_  
  
"Hey."  
  
He turned his head and found Brian, who had seated himself beside Justin.  
  
Justin was at a loss for words. He was utterly distracted and had no idea how to deal with Brian at this very moment. Someone could have given him a script, and Justin was sure that he'd probably end up flubbing the lines. Suddenly, Justin remembered Daphne's words: Y _ou didn't come here looking for Brian, but you found him anyway. That's some kind of cosmic sign...  
_  
"Hey."  
  
Brian didn't say anything, but he ordered Justin and himself another round of drinks. They sat side by side, each one nursing their drinks, seemingly lost in thought. From the corner of his eye, Justin noticed Michael hover about the bar for a while before leaving. Brian didn't acknowledge Michael's presence, and Justin was fairly certain that he hadn't even noticed Michael.  
  
Justin was beginning to think that Brian had come over for the express purpose of avoiding his friends as opposed to actually seeking out Justin's company. Which was why when Brian finally spoke, he took Justin completely by surprise.  
  
"I never meant to hurt you."  
  
Justin was certain that he had misheard Brian. He looked at Brian, who was looking at his glass.  
  
"What? Brian, I..."  _Did he really say what I thought he did?_  
  
"Justin. I know. I remember. Not that I ever forgot you." Brian finally turned and looked at him. "For a while I couldn't place you, but...why did you change your name?"  
  
Justin suddenly felt unable to meet Brian's eyes. "Craig - my father - he disowned me. Threatened to, anyway. I didn't have much of a choice..."  
  
"I never meant to hurt you, Justin." Brian repeated himself, but this time he actually looked at Justin. His voice was quiet, but his eyes spoke volumes. "I was nineteen. A young, stupid, selfish prick. I...I was confused...and -"  
  
Justin's phone interrupted Brian, ringing and vibrating at the same time.  _FUCK_. Instinctively, Justin reached out and cut the line.   
  
Brian's eyes flicked to Justin's phone before he looked back at Justin.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
The two men looked at each other, eyes communicating more than words ever could. Suddenly, something inside Justin clicked.  
  
"I have to go." Justin said quietly, as he stood up. He turned, and then paused. "Thank you. I needed to hear that." Justin's voice was almost a whisper. He then leaned over and kissed Brian very softly on his lips, before walking out.  
  
Outside Woody's, Justin stood in the cool evening breeze. He pulled out his phone and called Cody.  
  
"I'm in. Let's do this."

 

* * *

  
  
**Three days later**  
  
  
  
"I don't get it. Kip dropped the charges? Just like that?"  
  
Brian and Lindsay were ambling towards the diner.  
  
"Actually, no, not just like that. He handed in a written apology to Vanguard and to me, along with his resignation."  
  
"An  _apology??_  Brian, how on earth did you pull this off? What did you tell him to get him to drop the charges?"  
  
"Honestly? I haven't the foggiest idea as to what brought on this change of heart. I didn't speak to Kip about anything. Not that I'm complaining - Vance apologized to me as well." Brian was beginning to understand the value of an apology.  
  
For the billionth time in the last three days, he found his thoughts on Justin. Until he heard Justin's speech at the diner, Brian hadn't quite understood how much he had hurt Justin. Bits of Justin's speech kept coming back to him, and he was amazed by how much sense Justin had made.  
  
Justin had rushed out of Woody's three nights ago, after Brian had apologized to him. Brian had wanted to say so much more, but the words kept getting stuck. He hadn't seen Justin since that night, and neither had Lindsay. Justin hadn't been seen at the dinner either. Maybe I shouldn't have told him that I knew, Brian thought. He kept it hidden for a reason, after all. Maybe that was why Justin was avoiding him. But something in his eyes...unbidden, his fingers moved slowly across his lips, as he remembered Justin's kiss.   
  
"Brian? Did you hear me?"  
  
"I had the pleasure of not hearing you at all." She sighed.  
  
"Brian, be honest with me, or don't say anything at all, ok?" Brian nodded. "How do you know Justin?"  
  
Brian looked at Lindsay. "Meaning what, exactly?"  
  
"When I was at Justin's studio, there was a box full of sketches, and there were a few sketches of you. I couldn't look at them in detail, but I know some of them were of you. A younger you, like when we were in college. I thought I was mistaken, but then that day in the diner...he knew about your family. I have no right to ask him, so I'm asking you. I didn't want to bring it up when you had so many problems to deal with, but now that it's blown over..."  
  
"We went to high school together."  
  
" _What?_ "  
  
"Look, Lindz, you asked, I told. But I'm not telling you anymore than that, so don't ask. And I don't have to tell you that this stays between us." It was Lindsay's turn to nod. "And now that we're having this discussion, I'd like you to answer one of my questions."She looked at Brian and nodded again. "Do you think he was right?"  
  
"What ...what do you mean?"  
  
"You  _know_  what I mean. What Justin said about me. Do. You. Think. He. Was. Right." Brian enunciated each word, as if he was speaking to a child.  
  
"Brian...well...it's like..."  
  
"Yes or no, Lindz. Or mostly yes or mostly no. Those are your choices. It's not rocket science."  
  
Lindsay sighed. "You're my best friend Brian. I'm bias."  
  
"I'll take that as a yes, then."  
  
Lindsay didn't answer him, but she squeezed his arm, and they walked into the diner together.  
Michael, Emmett and Ted were already seated in their usual booth, and Debbie was standing next to them. Brian noticed that there wasn't much of a crowd. He also noticed that there was no Sunshine. Everyone was smiling, and Debbie hugged him.  
  
"I heard the good news. I guess Brian Kinney can go back to business as usual, huh? Honey, I'm so  _glad_."  
  
"We should celebrate tonight. Let's go to Babylon." Michael said.  
  
Emmett laughed. "Yes, because nothing says ‘I learnt my lesson' like fucking someone in the backroom."  
  
"Oh my, he is  _definitely_  lost!"  
  
Brian looked at what had caught Ted's attention, and saw a man walking towards the counter. He looked fiftyish, with thinning hair and a belly. He was wearing a suit, and looked completely out of place.  
  
"Straight and lost." Emmett added.  
  
As the man approached them, Debbie smiled. "What can I get ya? Meatloaf? A sandwich? Coffee?"  
  
"Actually, I'm looking for someone. A Justin Taylor. I wonder if you would know who that is...?"  
  
Before Debbie answered, Brian spoke. "And you would be?"  
  
The man looked at Brian, and took a moment to answer. "I'm Detective Carl Horvath from the Pittsburg PD." He handed Brian his card.  
  
_Detective Carl Horvath_  
Sex Assault/Domestic Violence Squad  
Pittsburgh Bureau of Police

  
Brian's blood turned to water.

_Where are you, Sunshine? What kind of trouble are you in?  
_

 

 

** End Notes: **

Carl's division is based on the actual divisions in the Pittsburgh Police Department.   
  
_Derailed_  is a Jennifer Aniston/Clive Owen movie. Not particularly great, but the plot is similar to Cody's plan.    

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	11. Chapter 11

"I'm Detective Carl Horvath from the Pittsburg PD." Carl handed Brian his card. Are you a friend of Mr. Taylor's?"  
  
Brian willed himself to remain calm. "Yes. Brian Kinney."  
  
Michael frowned at Brian, and then looked at Carl. "Why are the police looking for Justin? Is someone suing him for defamation?"  
  
Brian, Ted, Emmett and Lindsay all glared at him, but Carl smiled pleasantly at Michael.  
  
"Got a big mouth, has he?" Carl asked.  
  
Michael opened his mouth, but Brian cut him off. "So, why are you looking for Justin?"  
  
"Just have to ask him a few questions."  
  
"What kinda questions? Why would you need to ask Sunshine questions?"  
  
Carl looked at Debbie. "Sunshine?"  
  
"Justin. Questions, you said?" Brian was trying to control both his worry and his temper. This was the third time that Carl was being asked the same damn thing.  
  
"Ah, yes...Mr. Taylor may or may not be a witness to a crime...a few questions just to clarify the matter."  
  
_Crime?_  Brian glanced at the card in his hand. This was a detective from the sex assault/domestic violence squad. What kind of crime did Justin witness to warrant this man's attention?  _Where the fuck are you, Sunshine?_  
  
Detective Horvath was talking to Michael.  
  
"Mr. Taylor, he didn't mention anything to you about this?"  
  
Michael snorted. "We're more acquaintances, really. Anyway, I haven't seen him since that night at the bar."  
  
Carl looked at Michal with interest. "Which night would this be?"  
  
"Um...about three days ago, right Em?"  
  
"Yes, it was. I remember it was one for one on tequila shots!"  
  
Carl continued to smile. "Sounds like a good deal...where's this bar?"  
  
"Woody's, down Liberty Avenue. No offence Detective, but it really won't be your scene." Emmett said, grinning.  
  
Carl laughed. "So Mr. Taylor was with the both of you?"  
  
What the fuck was wrong with Michael and Emmett? Brian was amazed by the level of collective stupidity among his friends. Couldn't they see that behind the casual questions and the genial smile, Carl was conducting a steely interview?  _What the fuck was going on?_  Never in his entire life had Brian wished for Melanie's presence instead of Michael's as he did right now. Michael wasn't even looking at him to pick up on Brian's pointed looks.  
  
That was when Brian noticed the blonde at the door.   
__  
Justin.  
  
Brian felt relief wash over him. But something was wrong - he knew the exact second when Justin saw Carl's back, because Justin froze. His eyes met Brian's, and Justin shook his head, almost imperceptibly, as he slowly and quietly backed out of the diner.   
  
Why was he avoiding Carl, if this was all about some witness statement?  
  
"- was drinking alone." Michael was saying. Then he scowled. "Well, he was drinking alone till you joined him, Brian."  
  
"So you were with him that evening, Mr. Kinney?"  
  
Perfect, Brian thought. Now I can put an end to this interview. "I had a couple of drinks with Justin before he left. If any of us meets Justin today, we will be sure to tell him that you were looking for him, Detective. I'm sure that you have more important cases to work on."  
  
Carl looked at Brian, his expression unreadable. "Every case is important to us. If any of you see Mr. Taylor, please do contact me."  
  
"Brian, you could have been a little bit more polite. What got stuck up your ass?" Debbie asked him, after Carl had finally made his exit.  
  
"Deb, I fail to see the need to offer some cop unnecessary information. He came looking for Sunshine, Sunshine's not here. End of story."  
  
Brian did not notice the storm clouds gathering on Michael's face at Brian's casual use of Justin's nickname.   
  
Neither did Debbie. "With your lifestyle, wouldn't hurt to have a cop or two on your side."  
  
Brian wondered if Justin would drop by the diner again, or whether he'd hide away for a while. Ultimately, he decided to wait half an hour just in case, before he headed to Justin's studio, which is where he figured the blonde would be hiding. Brian refused to think about or explain his concern for Justin.  
  
Just as he was about to make his exit, the second surprise visitor to the diner delayed him.  
  
"Ben! What are you doing here?"  
  
At Michael's voice, the whole table turned to look at one Ben Bruckner, whom they had all heard about, but never met. Last Brian knew, Michael had kept in touch with the guy, though they weren't ‘seeing' each other. Debbie was frowning from her vantage point at the counter.  
  
"Hello Michael..." Ben seemed surprised to find Michael there, though he smiled.  
  

 

* * *

  
  
After Brian and Ben had both made their exits, and Michael had been ranting for almost half an hour. He was practically apoplectic. Lindsay wondered how much longer Melanie would take. She tuned back into the conversation to hear Emmett speak to Michael.  
  
"Michael, honey, I thought you weren't interested in the professor..."  
  
"I never said I wasn't interested. I just...I just..."  
  
"You just hoped that he'd wait happily in the wings till you saw this obsession with Brian to its doomed end?" Ted supplied.  
  
"I'm  _not_  obsessed with Brian!"  
  
The whole table burst out laughing.  
  
"Sweetie, if you actually believe that, we'd have to institutionalize you. You know that, right?" Emmett put an arm around Michael's shoulders.  
  
"I don't get it. What are you getting so worked up about?" Lindsay honestly failed to see Michael's point.  
  
"Lindsay, you wouldn't understand. Justin was just working with you, and he slept with Brian in under a week..."  
  
"Paranoid much?" Emmett was met with a glare, so he tried again. "It's  _Brian_. Doesn't really count as a general indicator, you know?"  
  
"Yeah, right. Brian is  _obsessed_ with that blonde twink. Jesus, the way Justin spoke about him, I would have thought Brian wouldn't want anything to do with him. Instead, he can't take his eyes off Justin whenever they're in the same room together."  
  
Lindsay privately thought that it was rather unfair to refer to Justin as a twink, but she kept her opinion to herself.  
  
"Michael." Ted cleared his throat and tried again. "Michael. Did it ever occur to you that maybe Brian actually likes him?" Michael looked at Ted as if he had grown a pair of horns.  
  
Ted was shaking his head. "Well, this might be a good time as any to take stock of things. Like letting go of certain fantasies to make dreams a reality...because Michael, honestly, no man will ever want to play 2nd fiddle to Brian Kinney, and really, that's what you should be worrying about, not Justin."  
  
It seemed liked silence was the only reply Ted was going to get.

 

* * *

  _  
_  
Brian found himself inside Justin's studio. It was, in fact, a rather small bachelor's apartment, stripped of all furniture except a threadbare sofa, a table and chair, and a rather derelict looking fridge. The rest of the apartment was furnished by sketches, paintings, an easel, and an assortment of art supplies. Brian contemplated the sofa, and then decided to remain standing.   
  
Justin looked like he had spent the last three days doubled over porcelain. He was pale, and if Brian wasn't mistaken, he had lost weight. What the hell happened to him?  
  
"You look like shit. What the hell happened to you?"  
  
"Food poisoning"  
  
Brian raised his eyebrows. "Food poisoning did this to you?"  
  
Justin didn't miss a beat. "You know what they say - what doesn't kill you, will make you weaker." He went and deposited himself on the sofa, and looked at Brian curiously. Brian noticed that Justin was moving somewhat stiffly.  
  
"Care to tell me why you're avoiding the police? Or what this crime is that you witnessed?"  
  
Justin opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think the better of it and merely shrugged. He thought for several minutes before speaking. "I'm avoiding Horvath because he annoys me. I've met him three times already, and all he does is ask the same fucking questions over and over again. Three days ago, I was spotted in some area where a college kid was killed, and now the cops think I hold the key to Jack the Ripper's identity.  
  
"Where the fuck did this happen? Isabella isn't exactly skid row." How did violence follow Justin around like this?  
  
Justin steadfastly looked at the top of his shoes. "John Street."  
  
"John Street?"  
  
"I was taking a walk."  
  
Brian looked at Justin suspiciously. Something in his story just didn't add up, but Brian couldn't put his finger on it.  
  
"Horvath's from sex assault and domestic violence. What exactly are you supposed to have witnessed?"  
  
"Uh...some kid from Carnegie-Mellon was raped and killed. I guess I was at the wrong place at the right time because Horvath seems to be convinced that I should have seen someone."  
  
Brian thought for a moment. "How did he see you?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Horvath. How did he see you? How did he know that you were there?"  
  
_What are you hiding, Sunshine?_  
  
"Uh...um...I dunno...security cameras? I never thought about it."  
  
John Street was full of apartment blocks, as far as Brian knew. He seriously doubted that any of them had security cameras trained on the street, and in the improbable event that they did, Brian seriously doubted that the police combed all the tapes, found Justin, miraculously identified who he was, tracked him down,  _and_ managed to speak to him, all in the span of three days. Not fucking likely. Justin was obviously lying.  


* * *

 

Fuck. He had never been the best of liars, and now the whole story was spinning way out of hand. Justin was fast losing track of what he had said and to whom. Justin was tired. The ‘minor dose' of the roofie, as Cody had called it, had completely knocked him out. I should have actually predicted that one, Justin thought. He had been severely ill, and only fear of even more questions had kept Daphne and him from seeking a doctor. Not that it helped, judging by how Horvath was hounding him. Any moment now, I am going to collapse from hunger. And exhaustion, he thought. 

He glanced at Brian, and saw that he was lost in thought. _I wonder if he believes me.  
_  
Brian spoke. "Come on, let's go."  
  
_Huh?_   "What? Where? I have work to do."  _And cops to avoid.  
_  
"Do it later. You look like death warmed over. We'll pick up something to eat - non-poisoned - on the way. You should be at home, sleeping, not gallivanting about town."  
  
Justin pouted. "I spent the last three days sleeping. I'm sick of sleeping. I'm sick of staring at the same damn walls for three days. I'm sick of Daphne hovering over me. I'm sick of watching reruns of Friends."  _And hyperventilating with Daphne about how we're all going to get caught very soon.  
_  
"If they had a Season 10, Joey and Chandler would have started making out. Actually, that might have been kinda hot...or, maybe Paul Rudd and Joey...that would have been hot too...or Paul Rudd, Joey and Chandler...where was I? Oh yeah, I'd rather stay here, avoid Horvath, order pizza and attempt to paint."  
  
"Or, you could stop acting like a drama princess and get your ass of that flea trap. Come on."  
  
Justin tried to frown, but realized that it took too much effort. "Where are we going?"  
  
"To watch James Dean. Infinitely preferable to Joey and Chandler."  
  
Justin shrugged. Brian was being unusually nice, so maybe he should just go with the flow instead of looking a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, his limited energy sources were soon depleting, and he was finding it more and more difficult to keep thinking.   
  
"Fine, but food first. I'm hungry."  
  
As it turned out, Justin's luck was very short-lived. They were greeted by Carl Horvath at the entrance, who was evidently on his way up to speak to Justin.  
  
"Oh fuck no." Justin groaned.  
  
Carl looked from Justin to Brian, and then back at Justin. "You're a difficult man to get a hold of. I trust your...friend" he looked pointedly at Brian "gave you my message. Son, I know you don't want to do this but -"  
  
Brian cut him off. "Detective Horvath? Carl? You may - or may not - have noticed that Justin is not well. As in ill. He is no shape to be having conversations with you, which apparently seems to run in a loop. So if you'll please excuse us, we have to be going."  
  
Justin mutely followed Brian, avoiding Carl's eyes. Maybe he'll take the hint and leave me alone. Or maybe someone else will end up not-so-dead, and then the pressure will be off me. Justin felt bad lying to the cop, but there was no feasible way to tell the Carl the truth. Justin could just imagine the conversation:  
  
_I'm sorry Detective Horvath, I'm not the sole victim who managed to escape from your serial killer that likes to drug, rape and then kill his victims. I cannot give you a description of anything or anyone, not because I don't remember, but because I do. I actually roofied myself, so that I could fraudulently accuse another man of sexual assault so that he would drop a sexual harassment suit against yet another man, which also was a bogus claim. You understand, don't you?_

 

* * *

  
  
  
Brian wasn't quite sure why he ended up bringing Justin to the loft, along with Thai take-out. Justin hadn't seemed thrilled about going back to his own place and had fallen asleep in the car almost as soon as Brian had started the engine. Why is it that each time I get him alone, some drama or another hijacks the day, Brian wondered. He wasn't fooled - he knew that he had managed to get Justin here only because the blonde was sick, exhausted, and clearly distracted.  
  
Brian had wanted to ask Justin about what happened with Chris Hobbs ever since Ted and Cynthia told him about it. Brian felt overwhelmingly guilty, even though he didn't have the exact details of what exactly happened. Now he also wanted to know what the hell had happened three nights ago...the night he had apologized to Justin. He looked over at Justin. They had eaten dinner on the floor, and Justin seemed to gain some energy as he ate. Conversation was easy, and Justin was smiling. Brian felt relaxed. Justin was beautiful. And even when he was sick, he was still charming and brash and entertaining and Brian found himself wondering why more evenings were not spent with person. Justin was now looking at some visuals on Brian's table.  
  
"This is ugly." Justin announced.  
  
Brian raised an eyebrow. "We're very polite, aren't we? And you're an expert on advertising since...?"  
  
"I worked as a freelancer for a while in Brooklyn. Mostly as a visualizer. Tuition at PIFA doesn't pay for itself, you know. Besides, I have a good eye. At any rate, this is ugly, and you don't have to be an expert on anything to see that. Gus could do a better job. There are too many elements and the layout is boring. And the colours are all so...cold. I like the copy though."  
  
Brian watched as Justin flipped the visual over and did a quick sketch on the back. "There, it looks much better now. Use some warm colours...an orange, or even a yellow....I'd go with orange though...hmmm...Kip Thomas? He designed this? Talentless hack. I suppose it's just as well he resigned." Justin went and gingerly sat down on the sofa. "Where's James Dean?"  
  
Brian's senses were on high alert. "How'd you know Kip resigned?"  
  
"Oh...Lindsay told me."  
  
And ladies and gentlemen, we have yet _another_  lie for the day. There was no way that Lindsay would have had time to speak to Justin between the time Brian left the diner and the time he got to Justin's studio. He thought back over everything Justin had told him so far. Brian looked over at Justin on the sofa, and noticed that his eyes were glazed. He doubted that he would get any straight answers out of him. He put  _East of Eden_  into the DVD, and quietly walked over to his table and checked the file Melanie had given him for his records. Kip's claim had his home address on it.   
  
_John Street._  
  
"Aren't you going to watch this?"  
  
Brian poured himself a glass of scotch, but gave Justin some brandy, and sat down next to him. Ok, Kinney. Let's get the facts straight. Three nights ago, Justin walks down John Street. Somebody gets killed, presumably on or near John Street the same night. Kip Thomas lives on John Street. This afternoon, Kip decides to drop the harassment charges, reason as yet unknown. And a seemingly sick Justin, who hasn't been seen or heard of for days, is somehow privy to this information.  
  
Justin had obviously spoken to Kip to have found out that he was dropping the suit. But why? How? Brian wondered if Justin had met Kip through Horvath - if John Street was where Justin was spotted, it was equally possible that Kip was tied to the case in a similar manner... but somehow, Brian felt instinctively that he wasn't connecting the dots correctly.   
  
_Sunshine, what are all these secrets that you have?_  
  
Brian glanced at Justin, and noticed that he had fallen fast asleep. Justin looked so peaceful and at ease, it was hard to imagine that he was caught up in all this drama and subterfuge. He reminded Brian of Gus. Brian considered letting Justin sleep on the couch for about a nanosecond before he dismissed the thought. On top of his food poisoning (if that was what he was suffering from), Justin would wake up with a bitching backache.   
  
Brian left Justin on the sofa as he switched the TV and the lights off, and put the glasses in the sink. He also resisted the temptation to go through Justin's phone, which was casually left on the kitchen counter.  
  
Brian went to the sofa and stared at the blonde.  _What is it about him? Why can't I get him out of my mind?  
_  
He gently carried Justin over to the bed, and immediately cursed himself as he felt himself stiffen. _Goddamn it. Not good._  And since there's no fucking way that I'm taking the couch, it's going to be one long night.  
  
Justin stirred in his sleep as his body touched the bed. Brian undid the button on his jeans, and memories of the last time he did that came flooding back to him.  _Fuck._  It's going to be one long, _hard_ night. Brian almost left him as he was, but then thought against it. At least one of us might as well be comfortable. Then Brian removed Justin's t-shirt, and froze.  
  
Bluish-purple marks formed an abstract pattern on Justin's upper body. His ribs, back and sides were all bruised. Justin had been in a fight.  
  
**  
**

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	12. Chapter 12

Brian stared at the mop of silky blonde hair on his shoulder. Justin had molded himself into Brian's side, and was fast asleep, head on Brian's shoulder, left arm across his chest and a leg tangled somewhere below. This was, in fact, the second time Brian had woken up to almost this identical position. The first time was around 3 am, soon after Brian had successfully willed himself to sleep, finally managing to ignore the myriad of questions in his head as well as his body's insistence that needs be satisfied (taking care of himself in the shower had not helped at all). He had woken up to Justin's phone vibrating mercilessly against the kitchen counter (Justin, of course, slept through it), and Brian had been annoyed enough to answer it, informing a bewildered Daphne that Justin was fast asleep.

When Brian came back to bed, he had had the opportunity of looking at Justin's bruises once more, and he had to admit that on closer examination, it didn't appear to be as bad as it had the first time round. They were still big and ugly and painful to look at, but they weren't nearly as numerous as Brian had first imagined. That did nothing to change the fact that Justin had clearly been in a fight, though.

Brian had made sure he slept as far away from Justin as possible the second time he got into bed, and yet here he was, being treated like Justin's own personal pillow. Brian desperately wished that he could find it distasteful, but try as he might, he found it only amusing and touching in turn. I'm going soft, he thought.  _Well, soft on the inside at least._ I'm turning into a fucking lesbian, he thought.

He found himself wondering how much Justin must crave human contact, to unconsciously curl up to Brian, of all conceivable people on the planet. How much damage did your father do to you? How much damage did Hobbs do?  _How much damage did I do?_

When there was no sign from Justin that he had any intention of waking up, Brian slowly disentangled himself and climbed out of bed. 

He had almost finished his shower when he heard noises outside. Given all that had transpired, Brian left the shower running as he walked to the door and tried to listen. Justin was on the phone with someone. Brian had to strain to make out what he was saying over the noise of the shower. Justin was hissing, and he sounded furious at the same time, and his voice occasionally rose with his temper.

" -eep a low profile Cody"  _Cody? Tony?_  "...(incoherent words)...because that cop (incoherent words) fuck alone...(incoherent words)...no, the blood test...yeah, the hospital had (incoherent words) alerted him...(incoherent words)...no...yeah...no, I guess...but they're still (incoherent words)...'f course I didn't...(incoherent words) ‘d a few drinks, walked home (incoherent words)...that it was none of his fucking business...how the fuck do you think I am? (incoherent words) running in my blood stream, and you fucking beat me black and blue...I can't (incoherent words) Brian will be (incoherent words)...fuck you... (incoherent words) ‘ee just stay the fuck out of trouble for a while, ok?"

Brian made his way into the shower when he didn't hear anything else from Justin. Of course. Justin hadn't been awake for more than an hour, but he successfully managed to raise even more questions.

Justin had been beaten up by someone he knew. Someone he clearly knew well. That was just...incomprehensible. Even as a fifteen year old, out-ganged and out-sized, Justin had always tried to keep out of trouble. Why would he seek out violence like this? Why would he let himself get beaten up, he wondered. His thoughts went briefly to Hobbs, and Brian felt his anger and guilt swell up once more, despite not knowing exactly what had happened in Brooklyn.

Which led him to the next point. Bruises didn't require blood tests, and neither did food poisoning. Which meant that it was a third ailment (presumably whatever that's running through his blood stream) that led Justin to have a blood test done. Which apparently was what led Horvath to Justin. Which meant that there  _was_ no walk on John Street, and the Carnegie-Mellon kid could have been killed anywhere. Which meant that murder, mayhem and cops aside, there was some other reason that connected Justin to Kip.

_Think,_ Kinney. Separate issues. A blood test, Horvath, getting himself beaten up and apparently lying to everyone about it.

Then there was Kip. What the  _fuck_ was that about? Why would Justin hide it? Did they hookup? Were they friends? Would Justin really be friends with someone like that? Brian grimaced. Justin apparently let his friends to beat him up, so at this point, it was fair game to assume that he was a friend of Kip's. 

_Please tell me they were never friends. Please let it be some other connection._

Brian was sure that if he asked Justin enough questions, he'd uncover even more lies, and in all likelihood, not an iota of truth would come out.

Oh well, it was time he stepped out of the shower. Towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Brian walked out of the bathroom. Justin was sprawled across the bed, and Brian noticed that he had worn his t-shirt.

"Well, Sleeping Beauty is awake...and I didn't even get to kiss you." He drawled.

Justin actually blushed. "Look, Brian, I'm so sorry about last night. I guess I was exhausted..."

"Hmmmmm, I noticed. Probably the first time that someone slept on that bed without getting fucked...unless you're in the mood to change that?" Brian had walked across and leaned over Justin, so that their foreheads were almost touching. Justin looked flushed, but he managed to roll across the bed.  _Damn._

Brian snickered, refusing to show the frustration that was mounting inside of him. He got off the bed, removed the towel, and walked to the closet, naked.

"Just for my education, let me get this straight. You have no problem fucking a trick in the backroom, but your moral code prohibits you from having sex with me in my own bedroom?" Brian had the satisfaction of knowing that Justin was at least riveted by the show he was putting on. His eyes were glued to Brian.

Brian waited a moment or two before speaking. "Sunshine, an answer...?"

"What? Oh, yeah...something like that."

Brian looked at Justin. "You  _do_  realize that your logic makes no sense?"

 

* * *

 

Justin stared at Brian.  _Oh fuck_. Brian was doing this on purpose, and it was working. Justin was hot, horny and hard in a matter of seconds.  _Stop_. I'm supposed to be playing him, not the other way around.  _Focus_ , Justin. He who laughs last will...still be horny and hard, but at least I'll get the last laugh.

As always, the trick was to catch Brian unawares. He gauged the distance between Brian and the shower. Ok, a few minutes, and then I'm free to die of frustration.

"Sunshine, an answer...?"

"What? Oh, yeah...something like that."

Brian looked at Justin. "You do realize that your logic makes no sense?"

"It makes perfect sense, if you're me."

Gathering his wits, Justin hoped off the bed and walked towards Brian, and was careful to keep his voice an even tone.

"But since you're so disappointed about not getting any, and I so rudely woke up before you kissed me awake, I guess..." Justin had made his way up to Brian, and ignoring the raised eyebrows, put his hand behind Brian's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He pitched his entire weight onto the other man, so that Brian had to grab the dresser behind him with both hands to keep them both from falling over. Justin didn't care that Brian would feel how hard he was. Not like Brian didn't know, so he might as well make the most of it. He kissed Brian deeply, while moving his hips in a circular motion, against Brian's body. When Justin felt Brian's body stir (and that didn't take long at all) he reluctantly pulled away.

"...you can pretend you kissed me awake, Prince Brian. I hope you don't mind, I'm gonna have a quick shower."

 

* * *

 

When Justin stepped out of the shower, Brian was fully dressed, in the kitchen. Brian looked at him, and his expression was unreadable.  _Uh-oh._

"What kind of trouble are you in, Sunshine?"

Justin stared at Brian.  _Those damn bruises!_ "I'm not in any trouble Bri, why on earth would you think that?"  _Think Justin._ There has to be some plausible story you can tell!

"Because you're bruised, presumably from a fight that you had some amount of participation in. You've been sick for three days from god knows what, and I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that it isn't from food poisoning. Add to that the fact that for a person with your sense of right and wrong, you're curiously unwilling to help the police solve a very serious crime."

Brian was looking straight at him and Justin his earlier bravado fast evaporating. "Brian, it's not like that..."

Brian continued to speak in the same steady voice, totally ignoring Justin's rebuttal. "And even though you're piss poor at it, you continue to lie whenever you're questioned about anything that happened in the last three days."

_Ok then. That doesn't leave me with much room to say anything now, does it?_

"Listen, Justin...are you listening to me?" Justin nodded mutely as Brian held his chin upwards. "If you're in trouble, you can ask for help. Whatever it is.  _Whatever_ it is. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Brian -"

"Justin. Sunshine. Do you remember how we met?" Brian now held him from his shoulders, a firm but gentle hold. Justin was rooted to the spot.

"What? You mean at the diner?" Justin was confused, not just by the question, but by the whole situation.

"No. The  _first_  time we met. When you were getting beaten up for being young and smart and you. I've known you since you were fourteen or fifteen. I'm the one you used to come to when you were in trouble, so don't bullshit me and say everything is fine when it isn't. You've never lied to me, so don't start now. If you're in trouble, whatever it is, you can come to me for help. And I  _will_ help. Got it?"

Justin was so surprised that he was completely speechless. He could just barely manage a nod. He was touched beyond belief that Brian had offered to help, even if it was out of some misguided sense of pity. Somewhere, somehow, in some way, Brian cared. Justin didn't realize it, but his eyes were sparkling.

"Now. I can drop you at your place, or you can come with me to the diner, get some breakfast, and I can drop you at your place on my way to work."

"Diner sounds good."

What three days of resting couldn't manage, Brian did in three minutes. Justin's smile was back, his energy was back, and he was practically glowing.

 

* * *

 

Brian wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but Justin seemed...different. He was more like the boy Brian went to school with, instead of the skittish, pendulum-like Justin that he had seen for the last week or so. And what Brian didn't realize was, that the more Justin smiled and laughed, the more his own eyes smiled.

"Before I forget, that sketch you did last night? I might end up using it for a poster. Oh yeah, and your roommate thinks we slept together last night. Daphne, right? She called, and since you were out cold, I had to answer your phone."

" _What?!_ You couldn't tell this to me any earlier? Thanks a lot, Brian."

Brian smirked. "You live with a woman, and seemingly have no friends. Trust me, if she thinks I slept with you, that's a huge boost to your reputation."

"Ha! You may have more friends than me Brian, but the few I have can stop the world from spinning if I ask them to, in the time _your_ friends will take to figure out that the world was spinning to begin with."

Brian narrowed his eyes and looked at Justin. "Exactly what is that supposed to mean?"

Justin was grinning. "Means exactly what it sounded like. You're all glitz and show; I'm all efficiency and substance. Ergo, I have fewer friends that can move mountains, whereas you have three dozen friends, most of whom can wring their hands in unison. I guess it's just a reflection on our different levels of intellect and maturity...when you speak, I understand exactly what you're saying. When I speak, you need me to simplify my sentences so that you can understand them...so I guess it isn't really fair to expect you to have efficient friends of substance. Oh, and if you dare tell this to Lindsay or Mel or anyone else, I'll deny it, and since my reputation is pristine, I'm guessing that you're the one who'll be taking a hit."

"You cocky little twat!"

 

* * *

 

**At the Diner**

 

"Oooh la la...what  _have_ we here?"

Lindsay, along with Melanie, Michael and Ted followed Emmett's gaze. They all stared, as a laughing Justin walked into the diner, followed by Brian, who smacked him upside the head, though Lindsay had a feeling that it was a rather gentle smack. Brian seemed to be frowning, but his eyes were telling a  _completely_  different story. What  _have_  we here indeed.

Lindsay looked at Melanie. "Do you think they just met outside or that...?"

Emmett looked at Lindsay as if she had asked which way was up. "Honey, are you telling me that they got that familiar by talking outside for five minutes? They  _totally_  did it last night."

Melanie thought for a moment. "I'm with you on what happened last night Em, but I haven't known Brian to actually let anyone sleep over at the hallowed loft. I doubt that Justin slept there. Ted, what are you thinking?"

"That there's a lot more going on here than meets the eye."

"Brian looks...happy." Lindsay looked at Michael in surprise, but was prevented from saying anything as Brian and Justin joined them. 

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	13. Chapter 13

**Vanguard - Same Day**  
  
  
  
_"It makes perfect sense, if you're me."  
  
Except I'm not you, Sunshine, so none of this makes much sense to me. What happened to you, what you're hiding, why you're hiding it, and why you so clearly want me but don't want me..._  
  
Brian turned when he heard a noise at the door.  
  
"Brian." Ted stood at the door, and Brian motioned that he could come in. "You need to fill this form."  
  
"Theodore, do I look like someone who fills out forms? Get Cynthia to do it, whatever it is."  
  
"She would, if she could. This is about the art guy."  
  
" _What_  art guy?"  
  
"Matt said that the visual you got done by an outside art guy got finalized. Brian, if we're using 3rd party work, we need to get them to sign a release and we need to pay them. Give me the guy's name and contact number and I'll figure the rest out."  
  
"What are you, an accountant or a lawyer? It was Justin's visual."  
  
"Oh..." Ted paused. "So...does that mean that we don't pay him?"  
  
Brian smiled at Ted. "Theodore, if we normally pay 3rd parties, why would I ask you not to pay Justin?"  
  
"Erm...er...right then. I'll call Justin and see if he can drop by and sign a release form before the artwork is released. He can pick up his cheque at the same time."  
  
"The artwork is being released this evening."  
  
"I'll call him right away then." Ted paused, and seemed to choose his next words carefully. "Brian, is...is Justin ok? I mean, with that cop and everything. Does it have anything to do with the bashing?"  
  
Brian sighed. "I honestly have no clue. I don't think that it's related to the bashing, and Justin says that everything is fine, but, at this point, it's all up in the air." This was the beauty of Ted - Brian could talk to him without any of the hand wringing...Brian shook his head. He was beginning to sound like Justin.  
  
"Well, ok then. Oh, Vance wanted me to tell you, Kip is dropping by this evening to collect his documents from HR. Vance wants to make sure that there are as few people around as possible because he doesn't want any more drama from Kip. Just letting you know."  
  
Brian nodded thoughtfully. "Kip is coming this evening?"  
  
Ted nodded.  
  
"Kip will be here in the evening. As will Justin. Maybe they'll both have to wait in the lobby together? Think you can manage that, Theodore?"  
  
"Kip and Justin? Uh...sure, but why...what's the connection?"  
  
"I'm not sure Ted. Which is why we should make every effort to find out, don't you think?"

 

* * *

  
  
  
Justin and Daphne were lying down on the grass in the park, blowing bubbles as they stared up at the sky. It was a ritual between them - they blew bubbles together, usually in the park. It was something they had started at school, and it was a habit that had stuck.  
  
"...I really wish I could help, but they are seriously barking up the wrong tree. I just hope everyone will find another clue or witness or  _something_  and move on from me."  
  
Daphne was silent for a while, as they continued to blow bubbles.  
  
"What did Brian think when you woke up sweating and screaming?"  
  
"Actually, I didn't...or I can't remember if I did. I'm pretty sure I didn't, though. I think I slept through the whole night without a single nightmare, and I wasn't even high..."  
  
Daphne turned her head to look at him. "Justin, you've been having nightmares every day since this whole mess with Kip..."  
  
"Well, I guess I'm all better now. Now I'll be back to having nightmares just every other week."  
  
"Hmmmm...so you mean you and Brian  _didn't_  sleep together?"  
  
"Nope. I kissed him though. This morning. And he would've fucked me if I had let him. You sound disappointed, Daph."  
  
"Well, yeah, kind of...I don't get it. If you want him and he wants you, why don't you just do it? I thought you two would have had crazy rabbit sex till morning, and then you'd be a couple and then all will be well with the world again."  
  
Justin looked at Daphne and they both burst out laughing.  
  
"Daph, first off, Brian doesn't do couples or relationships or anything of the sort. He abides by strange rules, it seems. Melanie mentioned it when I was over there. Secondly, we'll have crazy rabbit sex and then he'll just pick up some trick at Babylon by the next evening! I don't want to sleep with Brian, because I'm afraid. We'll do it, and then he'll move on to the next guy and I'll be back to square one, just like in high school...fuck, I don't know what I want!"  
  
"Justin, you're not  _in_  high school. How long do you think you can  _not_  sleep with Brian, all the while him knowing that you want him like some kind of crack addict?" She giggled as Justin shoved her.  
  
"So what? I'm supposed to waltz into his place, have crazy rabbit sex, and walk out?"  
  
It took a few moments before Daphne answered, and she yelped so loud that Justin started. "That's it! Jus, I'm brilliant!"  
  
" _Huh?_  What? You're brilliant because...?" Justin loved Daphne dearly, but sometimes, she just made no sense whatsoever.  
  
"Duh! I just came up with your new plan. This whole no sex plan is not going to work. Brian will soon end up thinking that you're some kind of schizo."  
  
"Yeah...with this whole Horvath thing, I think he  _already_  thinks that."  
  
"Whatever. This no sex plan? Out the window. We have a brand new, revamped, sizzling sex plan!"

  
Justin laughed and rolled onto his side, and looked at Daphne. "Tell me, oh fairy godmother, what is this new plan?"  
  
"Ew. I don't want to be some old, frumpy fairy godmother. I want to be a sexy fairy, like Tinkerbell. Or those super sexy fairies from some anime. But not the porn fairy kind, just the really sexy mainstream anime - "

Justin rolled his eyes and cut her off. "Ok, ok, ok, Super Sexy Anime Fairy. Tell me the plan already!"  
  
"You need to have sex with Brian. Hot, sizzling, it-makes-you-forget-the-world-outside crazy rabbit sex. But on your terms. So you walk into his loft, have hot, sizzling, it-makes-you-forget-the-world-outside crazy rabbit sex and walk out. Then it becomes sex on  _your_  terms."  
  
"What?! Daph, are you high?"  
  
It was her turn to shove him. "Idiot! Think about it. You've been in love with him for ten years. At least we know he cares about you. Let's not make him care about you enough to have you institutionalized, which is where your schizo behavior will lead! And if that doesn't happen, he's going to figure out that the torch you're carrying around can set whole rainforests on fire." Daphne yelped again as Justin shoved her harder this time.  
  
"Daphne, you're crazy! He doesn't even do the same guy twice! Besides...your plan is...crazy!"  
  
"Crazy smart, you mean. Make sure the sex is fabulous, and he'll be salivating for more! Make him break his rules. Sex can be the doggie treat you give him each time he is nicer to you, and the two of you get closer! Except it's more a crazy rabbit treat...Justin, I'm brilliant!"  


* * *

 

**At Vanguard, Same Day in the Evening**  
  
  
It was almost six thirty, and between Ted and Cynthia and Vance's orders, they had managed to clear out most of the staff. Brian wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen between Justin and Kip when the two of them met. As long as they weren't friends, Brian would have been happy with anything. Justin being friends with the likes of Kip was unthinkable.  
  
"Brian?" It was Ted. Cynthia was standing right behind him.  
  
"Got anything?"  
  
"Hurry up! Justin's waiting for Cynthia at the reception, and security called to say that Kip is on his way up. Whatever it is that you're expecting, it's about to start!"  
  
Brian rolled his eyes. "We're not going to watch the 4th of July fireworks. I just want to know what their relationship is."  
  
"Well, whatever, just hurry it up, and everyone keep quiet ok? We can hear them if we stand at the corner, but we won't see them."  
  
Brian couldn't believe the eagerness in Cynthia's voice. "What are you two doing?"  
  
Cynthia gave him a long-suffering look. "Brian, hard as it is to believe, we care about you, and would like to know the connection between your two-night stand and your potential blackmailer as well."  _Ted._ Of course.   
  
  


* * *

 

Justin was hoping that he would bump into Brian, even though it had been his assistant, Cynthia, who had called him. He had really enjoyed himself at the diner - even Michael had been unusually quiet, and being at the park with Daphne had really been the icing on the cake. He flipped through a magazine, and thought about dropping by Lindsay's afterwards. He missed seeing Gus.  
  
"Oh my god! YOU! It's YOU!"  
  
Kip Thomas.  _Holy fuck._  Breathe, Justin. Just stay calm.  
  
"Kip. What an unpleasant surprise. I thought you resigned. What the fuck are you doing here?"  
  
"What the fuck are  _you_  doing here? Who the fuck  _are_  you? Is your psycho friend here too?"  
  
Justin sighed, but inside, he could hear blood pounding in his ears. Kip was blocking the only exit. Maybe if I stay silent long enough, he'll just disappear.  
  
Kip didn't disappear.  
  
"Who the fuck ARE you?"  
  
"At this point, I don't think that's really relevant."  
  
" _Relevant?!_ Look, Blondie, haven't you had enough? You ruined my fucking life! My career! What more do you want?!"  
  
"Jeez, Kip, get a grip! People can hear you, you dumb fuck! I'm not here for you; I didn't know you still had any business at Vanguard. Let's just pretend we don't know each other, finish our work here and hope to never see each other again as long as we live. Can you do that?"  
  
"You work here? With your psycho friend?  _That's_  why you did all this? To steal my fucking job?"  
  
"I don't work here Kip, and if I wanted to work here, I could get a job based on my talent. I wouldn't have to resort to this cloak and dagger melodrama."  _Maybe if I stay calm, he'll calm down? Please Brian, be on your way to Woody's._  
  
"Kinney! Of course! You're fucking him! Or is it your psycho friend? Or both of you?"  
  
"Neither of us are fucking Brian -"  
  
‘You did this to me so you could fuck him!"  
  
"If I wanted to sleep with Brian, I'd walk up to him and ask him to fuck me. I don't need -"  
  
"Are the three of you laughing at me every night? Did you come here just to mock me? You ruin my life and now you want to rub my face in it? So where is Kinney? I'm going to tell him what a fucked up - "  
  
Kip was hysterical, and Justin could feel a migraine coming on in full force. He  _had_  get Kip to shut up.  
  
"Kip. KIP! Shut up!"  
  
"Who the fuck do you -"  
  
"I'm the one who can make sure that you'll be wearing orange for the next twelve years. So when I say shut up, you shut the fuck  _up._  Got it? Now listen to me very carefully, because you don't seem to be too clear on the rules. And if I have to explain this to you a second time, I'll get my  _psycho friend_  to do it, and we both know that that won't be pretty.  
  
First off, your  _im_ moral high ground notwithstanding, the state of your life is not my fault. Nor is it the fault of my friend, or the fault of Brian. You chose to sleep with Brian, and then blackmail him. None of us forced you to do that. All this is a result of your actions, so if you want to blame someone, look in the fucking mirror. Besides, you resigned. Just find another job at another agency - how hard is that? Second - "  
  
"He's the one who -"  
  
"Did I ask you to talk? Shut the fuck up. You don't breathe unless I  _tell_ you to breathe. Now. Second point: you're not telling anybody anything. That includes  _Kinney._  Brian doesn't know about this, and we're all going to keep it that way, understand? I really have better things to do with my life than to keep haunting you, but if you so much as hint about this with anyone,  _especially_  Brian, the police will have some really interesting photos and a blood test to analyze. Are you following me, Kip? And if you so much as  _look_ at Brian the wrong way, you're a dead man.  
  
Don't push me Kip; we both know that I play this game way better than you. Now talk. Why are you here?"  
  
Kip looked t him with a mixture of fear and hate in his eyes. "To pick up my ROE from HR."  
  
Justin did not look forward to staying here alone with Kip for a second longer than necessary, but he didn't really trust Kip enough to leave him alone, despite all his threats.  
  
"Fine. Sit there, shut up, and don't utter another word until you leave this building. And  _don't_ test my patience." 

 

* * *

 

Brian, Ted and Cynthia stood in the corner, shocked beyond belief. Whatever they had expected, it was  _not_ this.

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	14. Chapter 14

**Same evening, at Vanguard**  
  
  
  
Brian sat at his table, staring out of the window. Cynthia and Ted were each on the couch, and all three of them were at a loss for words.  
  
After the scene they had just witnessed (technically, only heard), Brian had walked back into his office, and Ted and Cynthia had each dealt with Justin and Kip, who were ignoring each other when Ted and Cynthia appeared at the reception.  
  
When the two of them made their way back into Brian's office, he was too distracted to bother asking them to leave.  
  
"Brian? What exactly did Justin do?"  
  
Brian looked at Cynthia. "You mean aside from saving my ass?"  
  
Cynthia fumbled for words. "I meant...I mean... _how?_ "  
  
"Is this why that cop is after him?"  
  
"Well, going by what we just heard, the cops have it all backwards it seems. Horvath is after him because Justin took a blood test at a hospital which somehow made the cops think that he knew a serial killer or witnessed a crime or...something like that. That's why Horvath wants to talk to him. Apparently, the blood test was all about Kip."  
  
Ted tapped his index finger on his chin. "Did anyone else notice that Kip didn't even know Justin's name? I mean...he called him Blondie..."  
  
Brian nodded, but Cynthia was lost in thought.

"Brian, exactly what did Justin do?"  
  
"The fuck if I know..." Suddenly, Brian remembered that night at Woody's. Sitting at the bar with Justin...  
  
_Thank you. I needed to hear that._  
  
That's when Justin had walked out, to reappear only three days later after Kip dropped the charges. Claiming to have gotten involved with Horvath after walking on John Street. Where Kip lived.  
  
"Justin did something to Kip, or with Kip or near Kip three days before Kip dropped the charges. I'm guessing that whatever he did involved photographs, a blood test and his friend Cody or Tony. And that it can put Kip in jail for twelve years."  
  
"Who's Cody...or Tony?"  
  
"I don't know Ted. I overheard Justin speaking to him this morning, and given the gist of the conversation, I'm guessing that it's the same psycho friend that Kip kept referring to. Who, by the way, beat Justin up nice and solid. Presumably as part of this...this...whatever it is that they did, though I cannot fathom the connection. I mean...a blood test, photographs and getting in a fight...what the fuck are we missing?"  
  
_Did you really do all this for me, Sunshine? Just because I apologized to you for being a prick?  
_  
"This morning...?" Cynthia looked from Brian to Ted and back to Brian, and decided to fill in the blanks herself when they were silent. "So Justin has something over Kip...something that can put Kip in jail, which he used to bargain with and got Kip to drop his suit against you? This is what we're concluding, right?"  
  
Brian glanced at Cynthia, but didn't speak. What could he say... Justin had orchestrated all this for the sole purpose of saving his ass? Justin's words rang in his ears.  
  
_So, what happens now? We wring our hands and hold pity parties and hope that Melanie can wave her magic wand and make this just disappear?_  
  
Except that you didn't wring your hands and hold pity parties and you didn't pin your hopes on Melanie's magic, did you Justin? You went out and got yourself beaten up, landed up in hospital, got the cops on your tail and did heaven only knows what else; and you somehow got Kip off my back. That's what  _you_  did.  
  
In the ledger of his imagination, a mounting column of zeroes was fast forming under his own name.  
  
Ted's voice brought him back to the present. "Are you going to ask him? What exactly he did, I mean?"  
  
"No."  
  
" _No?_ " Ted and Cynthia chorused together.  
  
"Why the hell not? Don't you want to know?" Ted demanded.  
  
"Don't you want to thank him? Don't you think you  _should_ thank him?" Cynthia was as forceful with her opinion.  
  
"Can you two hear yourselves think? Why the fuck do you  _think_ I'm not going to ask him? Justin did all this, and over and above everything, he didn't want me to find out." At this point Brian stretched out his arms, and walked to the window, and he thought that even if his arms stretched from one end of Pittsburgh to the other, it still couldn't begin to encompass all what Justin had done.  
  
"He lied to my face each time I asked him anything at all, and did you hear him out there with Kip?  _He doesn't want me to find out._ He saved my fucking career; he saved my fucking  _life,_  and how do I thank him? By doing the one thing that I  _know_  he doesn't want to happen? That's a fine way to respect someone's wishes and show your gratitude, don't you think? By doing exactly what you know they  _don't_ want?"  
  
"But..."  
  
"Yes, Cynthia? But  _what?_  What  _exactly_  is it that you expect me to do? Walk up to Justin and thank him? Because by telling him ‘thank you', that's somehow going to measure up to what he did? Because it won't. Not even close. ‘Thank you' is just two words that mean bullshit. When you can come up with something I can do that will actually  _mean_  something, let me know. Till then, the least I can do is respect his wishes."  
  
Cynthia sighed. There wasn't much she could say to that. "Why would he do all this, Brian? Who  _is_  Justin Taylor?"  
  
"He's the one who can stop the world from spinning."  


* * *

 

**At the diner, the next day**  
  
  
When Brian walked into the diner the next morning, the first thing he noticed was Justin, seated in a booth with a sharply dressed blonde woman. He could only see Justin's face, and he did  _not_ look happy. At all.  
  
"Who's that with Justin?" he asked, as he slid in next to Michael, who rolled his eyes.  
  
"Good morning to you too. Ma said that it was his mother. What exactly is going on between the two of you, Brian? I've never seen you pay this much attention to some trick."  
  
Brian grimaced. It was too early in the morning for this. "Justin isn't some trick. He's a friend."  
  
The table was silent until Debbie came. "Can I get you boys anything?'  
  
"Just the script for today," Michael muttered. "I've completely lost the plot."  
  


* * *

 

**Later in the day during lunch, at a café**

 

"Fucking pig!"

Daphne looked at him sympathetically. "I don't get it, I thought he had agreed to pay for Molly's college."

"Yeah, didn't we all. Apparently, business isn't booming, and maintaining two families is straining his budget...asshole. I bet he's lying. He's just doing this to get to mom."

"So what's she gonna do? I mean, can she pay for Molly's college on her own? Molly must be furious."

"Well, Molly  _would_ be furious, if Molly knew. Mom's not telling her. No real point in having both kids knowing that they're unwanted, right?"

"Justin -"

"What? It's true. Mom says she can manage - she'll take a loan or something...and I'm going to call Brian."

"Brian?"

"Yeah, I'm going to ask for a part time job at Vanguard. They could sure use me...and if he says no, I guess I'll have to cash in my favour and demand a job."

"A job? Justin, you don't need a job...you have your student aid, plus your savings..."  
"You're right,  _I_ don't need it. But if I'm going to help mom out, I am definitely going to need a steady source of income. Not that mom knows yet, but..."

"Jus, Craig is being a dick, but that doesn't mean that -"

"Yes it does. Every dick thing Craig does boils down to me. You know, they would never have got divorced if not for me. Mom was happy in her suburbia bubble and what she thought Craig was...I'm the one who ruined all that. Molly would have a dad - a real dad who loved her and was part of her life - if not for me. "

"Justin,  _none_  of this is your fault. You don't have to feel responsible...you don't have to do this."

Justin sighed. "Daphne, they divorced because of  _me_. We were a perfectly normal family, and mom was perfectly happy, until I came out and the shit hit the ceiling. If I took that  _one_  day out of the calendar, do you know how different life would have been for mom and Molly? I'm the one who opened Pandora's Box - it will _always_  be my fault. And there's no fucking way I'm going to let mom shoulder this on her own. She deserves a break."

Daphne squeezed his hand. " _You_  deserve a break. You know that, right?"

Justin smiled at her wanly. "I can't be bothered with looking for jobs, going from pillar to post. Life is so fucking exhausting! Brian better give me that job, or...or he better give me that job. Those are his choices. One week, Daphne. I want just  _one_ week, where everything goes my way, just so I know that this is a normal life, and not a big cosmic joke." He sighed. "Dr. Chanders, aren't you going to get late for your class?"

Daphne threw a french fry at him. "Not a doctor yet, you goose. Take care, ok? Text me and let me know what happens. Really, none of this is your fault. I wish you could see that." She kissed him on the cheek as she left.

 

* * *

 

**That evening, at Woody's**  
  
  
  
To say that he had been surprised by Justin's request for a meeting was an understatement. Cynthia had been equally surprised, but she had shown Justin in with admirable calmness. Justin hadn't beaten around the bush, and had outright asked for a job in the art department on a part-time basis so that it would be flexible with his classes.  
  
Brian admired how forthright he was. Justin had brought his portfolio, and Brian had gone through it, being honest in his critique, but in his mind, there was no question - if Justin wanted a job, he'd get the damn job. Brian supposed that it was an added bonus that Justin was actually talented, and seemed to know what he was doing. He's portfolio was impressive, and though Brian had already seen some of Justin's work, he couldn't help admiring what he saw. Justin was simply brilliant.  
  
But why he wanted the job was a point on which Justin was vague - Brian knew that he was on student aid - he didn't really need the money. Justin had glossed over the point, saying that he needed more industry experience and that additional income was always a bonus. But this was Justin. There  _had_  to be another reason.  
  
The sound of Michael's voice, whining and insistent, forced him to pay attention.  
  
"I ask him out, and he's busy. He's busy  _every_  night this week! I thought he liked me! Brian?  _Brian?_  Are you listening?"  
  
"Yes, Michael, I'm listening. How could I not? I'm sure that even the kitchen staff is listening. Maybe the good professor has papers to mark? Maybe he doesn't go out on a school night? Maybe you should be talking to Emmett, who's actually qualified to give relationship advice?"  
  
"Yeah well, Emmett is -" Michael was interrupted by Brian's phone.  
  
Brian was surprised to see Ted's number. Why would Ted be calling him, of all people?  
  
"What is it, Theodore?"  
  
"Brian, you better get down to Babylon right now."  
  
"Now why would I do that?"  
  
"Because Justin is piss drunk and tweaked out and any minute now, someone is going to carry him out of here and I don't think he'd even realize it."  
  
"Keep an eye on him. I'll be right there."  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
Shit. Michael. "Babylon."  
  
" _Now?_  What did Ted want? Is he in trouble?"  
  
"It's Justin."  
  
Michael was silent all the way up to Babylon.  
  
Brian found Ted near the staircase with Emmett, who was looking more than a tad confused, and was clutching someone's t-shirt.  
  
"And there is the young Mr. Taylor, bringing the whole house down."  
  
Brian followed Ted's gaze until his eyes rested on Justin. Who was dancing on top of the bar, in between two dancers. His t-shirt was nowhere to be seen (presumably that was what was in Emmett's hands), and his pants were riding dangerously low. Justin was laughing and dancing, seemingly oblivious to the men around him, or the hands that kept pawing at him. Not that Brian could blame any of the men - Justin was  _sizzling_.  
  
Without a word, Brian strode towards the bar, with Ted, Emmett and Michael close on his heels.  
  
"Briaaan!" Justin's smile grew even wider, but he didn't stop dancing. Instead, he kept grinding his hips, moving lower and lower until he was at eye level with Brian. "For th' right price, I can be  _your_  private dancer." He wiggled his eyebrows and gave Brian such a seductive look that Brian was almost tempted. Almost. Justin's eyes were glazed.  
  
"Maybe another night. Come on Sunshine, time to get you home." Brian didn't wait for a reply, but instead he put his hands on either side of Justin's waist and lifted him off the bar, amidst grumbling from eager onlookers. Brian gave them all death glares, and placed Justin in front of him, though he didn't take his hands of Justin's waist.  
  
"I'm nuh goin' home. It's waaaay too early fer tha', an' I'm nuh nearly drunk enuff to even consider home. Wanna dance?" Justin was slurring his words, and he placed his hands on top of Brian's.  
  
"Sweetie, any more drinking and they won't be able to detect  _any_ blood in your alcohol stream." Brian could hear Emmett, though he didn't take his eyes off Justin.  
  
Justin started giggling. "Tha's perfect! No bluh stream means no bluh tess! Bri, buy me a drink? Pleeeaaase?" Justin draped his arms around Brian's neck, and looked at him with wide eyes. "I pwomise to be good. Won' spill a single dwop." For a person so high, Brian was surprised that Justin was refusing to budge, and was holding his ground. What  _exactly_  had he taken?  
  
Brian could see Michael look at him incredulously.  _Bri?_  Michael mouthed at him.  
  
"Michael, you catch a ride with Ted. I'm taking Justin home -"  
  
"NO!"  
  
Brian was momentarily stunned by the vehemence in Justin's voice. "Justin -"  
  
"No! No home! They're all waitin' for me...I need...I need...what'd I need?" Justin stared at Brian blankly for a moment. "I need...a drink! Few more drinks an' I'll be ready for ‘em."  
  
"Who's ‘they'? You have guests at home?" Brian was confused.  
  
Justin gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Friens, Bri. They keep comin' tuh see me, an' I keep tellin' ‘em that I'm done with ‘em but they come anyway. You know them! Mossly your friens. Especially...like, this week. I think. Maybe they came lass week ‘s well. I dunno...one more pill, three more drinks and at least five more dances, and then I'll be ready...I think. Who'll dance wi' meeee?"  
  
"Jesus, he's higher than a kite." Michael muttered, handing Justin a bottle of water.  
  
" _My_  friends?  _My_  friends are at  _your_  place?" Brian knew that Justin wasn't going to make any sense given his level of intoxication, but he couldn't stop the question.  
  
Justin tried to stage whisper his next sentence, but it was loud enough for all four men to hear. "Yes, your friens. Krip. Whoops!" More giggling. "Mean Chris. And Kip" He rolled his eyes. "They're  _your_ friens - I have _much_  better taste."  
  
Brian froze. "Chris..."  
  
"Hooobbs...you forgot him?" Justin burst into another fit of giggles. "I don' think he's gonna like that much...Kip's yours too...Craig's mine, though. Aren'tcha gonna buy me a drink?"  
  
Ted was staring at Brian. Brian, for his part, felt his heart drop to his feet. Hobbs and Kip.  _My_ friends.  
  
Justin was pouring the bottle of water over himself, talking to Michael. "You know, Brian's taste's improved...you guys are niiiiice...especially Linsey...who isn' a guy at all!" Justin convulsed in giggles again. "Brian had retarded friens in school..."  
  
Heads whipped around so fast to look at Brian that it was a wonder none of them suffered whiplash.  
  
"School...?" Michael couldn't even formulate the sentence.  
  
Brian ignored them all and spoke to Justin in a voice previously reserved exclusively for Gus. "No one's going to be at my place ok, Sunshine? Why I don't I take you there?"  
  
Justin seemed to seriously consider his proposal, while he swayed on his feet. "Only if we get to dance ‘s well."  
  
"We can dance as well. Come on Justin, now drink some water, and we'll walk to the car, ok?" Brian put his arm around Justin's waist and started to guide him gently towards the exit, and mercifully, Justin followed, leaning heavily into Brian.

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	15. Chapter 15

Guns were being fired, and church bells were ringing at the same time. Or police sirens. Or was it the paramedics? Suddenly, the guns and bells and sirens all stopped, and a General started bellowing orders to someone. Was it even English? Ok, the guns started again, and General became silent. Was he dead? He was lying in a field. A really soft field...a field of... _Brians?_

  
It took Justin almost ten minutes to open his eyes, because each time his eyelids fluttered, it set off solar flares. Another ten minutes convinced Justin that instead of being dead and lying in a field of Brians, he was actually lying in Brian's bed. And then he located the General who was the one firing the guns.   
Brian was typing something on his computer, and he looked up as Justin staggered towards the kitchen.  
  
"Well, looks like Lindsay Lohan finally woke up. I was just about to call the paramedics. Good to know that you're still alive."  
  
"Mfghrrrkk" Ok...maybe vocal capabilities would take a bit longer to return.  
  
Brian quietly got up and walked past Justin, and in the time it took Justin to blink and take another two steps forward, Brian had placed some things on the counter.  
  
"Water. Advil. Juice."  
  
"Tfssnks." Ok, the ability to speak slowly returning. What did I  _do_  last night? Justin was not enjoying this.  
  
"You know, if you're going to make a habit of passing out at my place, we're going to have to set some ground rules."  
  
Was that amusement he saw in Brian's eyes? Who could tell; Justin was finding it difficult to concentrate because of the construction work going on inside his head.  
  
He tried to speak. "Hw dj I..." Ok, try again. "How...how did I get here?"  
  
"Corvette."  
  
"Oh. God. Babylon."  
  
"Mmmm hmmm." Now Justin was certain that Brian was smiling.  
  
"Don't you have work?"  
  
"On a Saturday? At three in the afternoon? Generally, no."  
  
Justin groaned, and Brian grinned at him. "Go have a shower. You'll feel better. There's some takeout that you can heat up later."  
  
A cold shower did help. The construction work reduced to a simple pounding, and Justin hoped that the Advil would start taking effect soon. Unfortunately, his embarrassment and mortification was inversely proportionate to his hangover, and the more the construction work reduced, the more ridiculous he felt. Justin was certain that Brian hadn't even been at Babylon when he got there...so how did I end up here? It was all such a haze!  
  
When Justin made his way back to the living room, Brian was on the sofa, watching the news. "Food's on the counter."  
  
"Maybe in a little while..." The sofa was looking so good.  
  
Brian turned to look at him. "Maybe  _now._  You haven't eaten in over twelve hours. Get some food in your system - trust me, you're going to feel better."  
  
Justin grumbled, but dutifully served himself something to eat before he made his way onto the other end of the sofa.  
  
"You spill anything, you're dead."  
  
Justin managed to stick his tongue out at Brian. "I'm not Gus."  
  
"Speaking of whom, I have to go for dinner at the munchers tonight. They won't mind if you join, and I can drop you at your place afterwards."  
  
Justin ate in silence before attempting further conversation. "Brian, I'm not exactly sure how I ended up here but -"  
  
"But you're embarrassed and very sorry...I know I know. I distinctly recall having a similar conversation with you a few days ago. You seemed to be on top of the world last night...you were certainly on top of the bar when I got there. Of course, I decided to play a hunch and assumed that you wouldn't feel quite so fabulous come morning, so I brought you here. Quite timely too, I must say. You were dead to the world the minute you were in the car."  
  
Justin groaned. "Ugh. I feel like an idiot!"  
  
"You weren't so bad...that was some dancing you were doing." Brian was looking at him, and Justin couldn't read his expression. Probably nothing, Justin thought.  
  
"Well, I  _am_  a fabulous dancer...and I have some experience dancing on top of bars."  
  
"Oh?" Brian arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Hmmm...there's lots you don't know about me Brian."  
  
"So I gathered."  
  
Brian looked away, and stared at the TV. Justin wondered if he was bored. Then Brian turned to look at him.  
  
"Tell me about Hobbs."  
  
Justin felt his heart stop beating for a full two minutes. "Who?"  
  
"Chris Hobbs. You mentioned him last night. When you were high. About how my friends were -"  
  
Justin laughed. It was forced, it was unnatural, but he would have done cartwheels if it would have stopped Brian from talking. "Brian, I was wasted. I don't know what nonsense I said, or did or..."  
  
Brian spoke very quietly. "Justin. I read about what he did to you."  
  
_Fuck. He can't know. Brian can't know what an idiot I was._  
  
"So he took a bat to my head. Big fucking deal."  
  
"It  _is_  a big fucking deal!" Brian ground out.  
  
"Was. I'm ok now."  
  
"Will you stop with your Fort Justin?!"  
  
"Fort what?" Justin could see that Brian was getting frustrated, but he didn't care.  
  
"Fort Justin. Every time I ask you something, up goes Fort Justin, and anyone within a ten mile radius gets electrocuted! Look, listen, Justin, I'm your -"  
  
"I'm  _OK_ now! Could've happened to anybody." Justin stared straight ahead at the TV, and his voice sounded cracked, even to his own ears.  
  
"But it happened to  _you_. Why?"  
  
"Brian. It was years ago. I've moved on, and I  _ **don't**_ want to discuss it anymore. With anyone." Justin felt the all frustration and guilt he had felt yesterday bubble up in full force, right along with Hobbs.  
  
_It happened to me because I was a goddamn idiot. Is that what I'm supposed to tell you? Or am I supposed to explain that even after six years, I was still so in love with you that I completely missed the fact that Chris Hobbs was a fucking psycho?  
  
Please stop, Brian. I'm not ready to handle this. Not now. Especially not with you._  
  
Staring ahead didn't help much when your eyes were brimming with tears. _Damn it! Get a grip, Taylor, you're stronger than this. None of this matters anymore._ He blinked in rapid succession and tried hard to distract himself.  
  
Brian didn't say anything, but when he moved closer and pulled Justin in, Justin quietly lost his battle with self control. They sat there on the sofa like that for the longest while; Brian had his arms around Justin, while Justin had his head on Brian's chest, tears falling noiselessly.  
  
Justin didn't know whether it had been minutes or hours before he was able to focus on the screen in front of him. He leaned forward and took the remote and randomly switched channels, ultimately settling on  _Arsenic & Old Lace ._  
  
Brian didn't let go of Justin for the entire length of the movie.   
  


* * *

 

Lindsay had asked Brian over for dinner; she thought they should enjoy the thaw in Brian-Melanie relations for as long as possible.

Emmett had dropped by earlier in the day, just to gossip, and updated them on the big scene at Babylon the night before, where, among other things, everyone found out that Brian and Justin knew each other from school. Lindsay hadn't bothered to tell Emmett that she was already privy to that bit of information.

Everyone was wondering the same thing though - why would Brian go out of his way to help someone, even if he  _did_  know the guy from earlier? Melanie insisted that there must be whole lot more going on that they weren't aware of, because apparently,  _nothing_  happened without a reason. Lindsay agreed, and thought that dinner would be a good opportunity to grill Brian.

And then he turned up with Justin. What was  _that_ about?

Justin had spent the better part of the evening playing with Gus, and Brian had spent the better part of the evening stealing glances at Justin when he thought no one would notice. Lindsay hadn't seen Brian be that gentle since...well, she hadn't seen him be that gentle at all. Lindsay was bursting with curiosity, but she held her tongue. Maybe it was a thaw all around...

 

* * *

 

**About two weeks later, at Babylon**

_  
_

For two weeks, Justin had avoided Brian. Kind of. It had happened by accident...after more or less breaking down in front of Brian, Justin had been embarrassed and ashamed. So he had kept out of Brian's way, even at Vanguard. He did his work (and he made damn sure that he did it well), but tried his level best to avoid Brian.

Then he thought, what was the point in doing that? Avoiding Brian would just make him even more curious to know what had happened, so Justin then figured that the best course of action might be to show that he was absolutely fine, and that he wasn't bothered by anything. And all this drama with Kip, and then his father had distracted Justin from what he had planned on doing in the first place. Well, technically planned on doing after he spoke to Daphne. Time to get the show on the road.

So he talked to Brian, laughed with him, laughed  _at_ him...and kept Brian at arm's length. He danced with every other man, touched every other man, and fucked every other man. And he made sure Brian knew about it. After the first time he woke up at Brian's, they hadn't kissed or touched or done anything remotely sexual, and Brian had never tried to initiate anything after that.

_But you want me. I know it. And I think it's time._

 

* * *

 

  
It would be the same thing tonight, Brian thought, as he tore his eyes away from a certain blonde to concentrate on the trick he was dancing with. I swear, he's doing it on purpose. Brian was getting increasingly frustrated. How could Justin fuck every trick at Babylon and then some, and still manage to avoid Brian?   
  
Beyond the trick in front of him, a pair of blue eyes was watching him. Brian locked eyes with Justin.   
  
Surrounded by men, Justin was dancing, his body moving in ways that could only mean one thing. Brian felt himself stiffen by just looking at Justin. Whose eyes never left Brian's.  
  
Brian pushed the trick in front of him away, and made his way over to Justin. "Fuck off." He told the guard of honour that formed around Justin. He put his arms around Justin's waist, and pulled him in against his own body.   
  
He bent his head and whispered into Justin's ear, "Are you trying to tell me something?"  
  
Brian expected to feel Justin's body respond. He didn't quite expect to feel Justin's arm make its way around his neck and reel him in for a kiss. Justin's tongue did a sexy tango with his own, before making a trail down his throat, and back up all the way up.  
  
"I was telling that my moral code has  _up_ graded itself." More kissing "...but I don't think you heard me...so I figure I'll have to show you." Justin started stroking him from outside, and Brian thought he might come there and then.  
  
He didn't need to hear any more. Brian broke away from Justin just enough to grab his hand, and drag him into the car.  _Justin was actually doing this?_  Somewhere in the back of his head, a voice told him that any moment now, Justin would pull away and, making one of his cryptic remarks, head off in the opposite direction.  
  
As it turned out, they made it as far as the car before Justin found something to pull. "What are you doing?"   
Justin was undoing the button on Brian's jeans, and it was fairly obvious what he was doing.  
  
"You drive. I have better things to do."   
  
They also found better things to do in the elevator, on the living room floor, and twice over when they finally made it as far as the bed.  
  


* * *

 

Brian was lying on his back, cigarette dangling from his hand. Justin had stepped into the shower, and Brian decided to leave him alone in there...a little break would let him catch his breath. Brian couldn't get over how Justin was fucking unbelievable (pun intended)...touching him, kissing him, being inside him...he was easily the best Brian had had. It had been mind-blowing. But it wasn't just the sex, the Lindsay-like voice inside his head kept saying, despite Brian's best efforts to ignore it. It felt...different. It felt right.

Brian was expecting to wake up to find blonde hair on his shoulder in the morning. He was not expecting Justin to walk out of the bathroom, fully dressed, at two in the morning.  _What the hell?_

"What are you doing?"

"What does it  _look_  like I'm doing? I'm going home." Justin was looking at Brian as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

" _Home?_  Now?"  _What the fuck was wrong with Justin?  
_  
"I haven't passed out, I'm not drunk and I'm not your boyfriend. You didn't think I'd actually spend the night here, did you?"

"Uh...no." It was, in fact,  _exactly_ what Brian had been expecting.

"Ok then. I'll catch you at work tomorrow." With a casual wave of his hand, Justin was out of the loft in a matter of seconds, leaving a stupefied Brian staring at the door.

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	16. Chapter 16

**The next morning**

  
  
Emmett walked purposefully into the diner; he frowned momentarily when he saw Brian having breakfast sans Justin, but it didn't break his stride.  
  
"Good morning my lovelies" Emmett said, mostly to Ted and Michael, before he turned to Brian. "Brian, I'm going to need lover boy's phone number."  
  
Brian raised one eyebrow. He didn't seem particularly amused by Emmett. "What?"  
  
"You meant to ask ‘who', I'm sure. No matter - Aunty Em understood you perfectly fine. I need your lover boy's phone number....aaargh! Justin's number! Stop pretending to be so dense, Brian."  
  
"Lover boy? Really? I'll have you know Honeycutt -"  
  
"Oh, save it for someone who'll actually believe you, Brian. I'm guessing that the young Mr. Taylor must be something quite extraordinary - this is what - the third? or fourth? time that the two of you have hooked up. Brian Kinney breaking his own rule once we can try to understand, breaking it twice we can pretend to understand, but this is becoming a habit that us lesser mortals will not even try to venture comprehending. Of course, seeing as how the two of you were about to set Babylon on fire last night, I kind of do see why you keep going back to him..."  
  
Brian glared at Emmett, and even Michael sniggered. Ted was unusually silent, and Emmett made a mental note to ask him about it later.  
  
Emmett continued unperturbed. "And while we would love to hear all the juicy details, I have more important business to deal with it. Did you drop Justin home before coming here? Is he going to drop by for breakfast? Because if he isn't, I really do need his phone number."  
  
Emmett didn't notice Brian skillfully ignore his questions. "What do you need with Justin? You have a t-shirt that needs to be stenciled, perhaps?"  
  
"Puh-lease...I'm aiming for something far more glamorous, so to speak. It's Liberty Idol at Woody's this weekend. Teams on Friday, individuals on Saturday." Emmett sighed in exasperation at Brian's expression. "Liberty Idol? The annual karaoke competition? There's no way I could win that on my own, but two people can enter as a team."  
  
Brian was still frowning at Emmett. "I fail to see how Justin is going to help you become Madonna...or in your case, Lady Gaga."  
  
"Brian, you're really slow sometimes. Teddy refuses to partner with me - karaoke is apparently too pedestrian for him - "  
  
"Em, it's nothing personal, but you know that the only songs I sing are in Italian."  
  
Emmett squeezed Ted's hand. "I know sweetie. As I was saying, Teddy refuses to sing with me, Mikey  _can't_ sing if his life depended on it, and we all  _know_ that it isn't an activity that you will engage in, so I have to convince Justin to say ok."  
  
Brian rolled his eyes. "And you are assuming Justin can sing because...?"  
  
"I'm not assuming anything. I  _know_  Justin can sing."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Oh. That night at Babylon, before his knight in shining armor came to whisk him away, Justin put on quite a show. I had the pleasure of dancing with him, and I was also fortunate enough to hear him do his own rendition of quite a few numbers - tweaked out he might have been, but that boy can sing. Until I saw him dancing at Babylon last night, it didn't hit me that I could team up with Justin. I plan to - "  
  
"Hey Brian, hi guys." Justin walked up to them from the counter with his breakfast, smiling brightly.  
  
"Justin! We were just talking about you." Emmett beamed at Justin.  
  
Michael spoke at the same time. "How come Brian gets a ‘hey Brian' and the rest of us gets lumped together?"  
  
Emmett noticed the slight blush on Justin's face before he covered it up with a big smile.  _Well, well, what have we here?_  
  
Justin was speaking to Michael. "Because he's my boss?" He squeezed in next to Emmett. "You were talking about me?"  
  
"Yes. Liberty Idol is on at Woody's this Friday - it's their annual karaoke competition. Teams are this Friday, but there's enough time to register. Now baby, I've heard you sing, and I know you have an awesome voice, and I bring the experience and the glamour quotient...so I was hoping...thinking...scheming of a way to get you to say ok to team up with me."  
  
Apparently, Emmett didn't need to scheme very hard. Justin's eyes lit up like light bulbs. "Really? That's awesome! I'd love to! This is so exciting - can we sing  _What I Like About You_  - I've  _always_  wanted to sing that on stage!"  
  
Emmett clapped his hands in glee. "Fabulous! We're going to be  _divine!_ The first prize is a trip to a ski resort in Vermont, and the second is - "  
  
"No way! I want to go ski in Vermont! Really, Emmett? If we win, you and I get to go to Vermont for free?"  
Justin was all excited and looked like a kid under a Christmas tree. Emmett couldn't help but smile; he also noticed Brian looking at Justin, a smile playing on his lips, amusement in his eyes.  _Really Kinney, who are you trying to kid?_  
  
"Well, if we win, you and I will certainly get to go to Vermont, unless of course, certain interested parties," at this point, Emmett glanced slyly at Brian (and the whole table noticed his glance though each of them pretended not to) "have other ideas, in which case I could be persuaded to give up my share of the prize for the right price."  
  
Justin laughed. "Emmett, you're too funny. Seriously though, I'm totally in. We'll need to make a song list and practice pretty soon though, right? I mean, five days isn't much time."  
  
Michael frowned. "Where exactly are you going to practice? The neighbours would have a fit if we kept playing music every night this week - you know Mrs. Avery is a real bitch."  
  
"Yeah, and the acoustics at your apartment isn't that great either." Ted added.  
  
Emmett frowned. He knew better than to ask Ted if they could use his place - Ted was neurotic about his place.  
  
"Well, my place is out - Daphne's having exams this week. There's my studio...of course, there's no furniture..."  
  
"And no speakers...no DVD...no TV...although it might prove very inspirational if you two decided to do the soundtrack from  _Les Miserables."_  Brian added helpfully.  
  
To Emmett's surprise, Justin stuck his tongue out at Brian. "You know, one day, I'm going to be famous and on the cover of Time magazine, and then you'll be sorry you made fun of me. You'll...you'll..."  
  
"He'll be an over-the-hill club boy, who'll be telling anyone who'll listen how he had the honour of fucking you on the floor of your ratty studio!" Emmett supplied, and was further surprised to see an exchange of decidedly personal smiles between Justin and Brian.  
  
Ted got the conversation back on track. "Why don't you ask Debbie? I'm certain she wouldn't mind if the two of you practiced at her place."  
  
"Come on, Ted, how much real practice do you think the two of them will get done?" Michael looked at Ted as if he was a five year old. "Ma will first want to vet the song list, then she'll insist on feeding them  _before_ they sing, then there will be dessert and then she'll make them pause while she gets Uncle Vic to come and give  _his_  opinion, and then she'll want to dance while they sing, and then -"  
  
"Who's Uncle Vic?" Justin asked.  
  
"Oh right, you haven't met him. He's my uncle. Ma's brother."  
  
Ted was glaring at Michael. "I was just trying to help. At least I suggested something, instead of just shooting everything down."  
  
"Who shot everything down? I'm just pointing out what's going to ultimately happen. Why don't you guys ask Mel & Lindz instead? They always love to be helpful."  
  
"With Gus sleeping upstairs? I can just picture them agreeing to that idea." Ted looked at Michael triumphantly, and Michael opened his mouth to retort back, but was interrupted by Brian.  
  
"Are you two done reliving your preschool days? As long as you promise not to shatter my glasses and leave everything exactly the way you found it, Emmett, you can use my place."  
  
This time, Emmett's jaw actually fell open.  _HOW did Justin manage to crack the combination?_  
  
Justin, meanwhile, was gushing. "Really? Bri? Seriously? Thank you! Emmett, this going to be so much fun! Brian, you're sure, right? Awesome!"  
  
It was a good thing that Justin couldn't stop talking, because Emmett and Michael were both finding it difficult to say anything coherent, and Emmett really didn't want to say something to make Brian change his mind. He had a very strong feeling that Brian's generous offer had little to do with a karaoke competition. Ted merely sat there, looking for the entire world as if he had just swallowed a goldfish. Teddy knows  _something,_ Emmett thought.  
  
"Well, I'm off to work. Those of you who need to be at work on time before picking out the wardrobe for the Blonde Ambition tour are welcome to hitch a ride." Brian placed cash on the table, and headed out of the diner.  
  
Justin looked uncertainly at Ted, who remained in his seat. Ted smiled at him. "Go on, I have my car. Besides, I'm pretty sure the invite was meant for you."  
  
Justin's smile could have powered a small city. He addressed Emmett. "I'll get your number from Brian and call you ok? I am  _so_  excited! Thank you so much for including me!" With that, he scrambled out of the booth, and ran after Brian.    

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	17. Chapter 17

Justin was walking with Emmett to Brian's place. He was excited that he got to do something that was so much fun and carefree; a welcome relief after all the drama of the last couple of weeks. Plus, Justin was genuinely beginning to like Emmett. Emmett was so honest and natural, and he instinctively felt that Emmett was one of the most understanding people around. Emmett being a party planner made perfect sense - there was something about him that everyone could relate to.  
  
"Baby, I hope you're not working on Friday, because the preliminaries start at six, and if we get through, which I'm sure we will, then the main event starts at eight."  
  
"No, it's cool. I work only Mondays and Wednesdays, and every other day it only depends on if they need me and if I'm available. I  _do_  have class on Friday, but it's over by two o'clock. You're really ok with doing _What I Like About You_ , right?"  
  
Emmett smiled. "Of course! I love that song. But we need three songs in total - one for the preliminaries, another for the semifinal and then one for the final, if we get through. It's always better to have one prepared - last year, the guys who came second place totally messed up not having a third song ready. Otherwise, they were so going to win."  
  
"Oh well, I'm sure that between the two of us, we can find two more do-able songs." Justin saw Brian's building in the distance, and told Emmett the first thing that came to his mind "I still can't believe Brian is actually letting us use his place. I hope he doesn't change his mind"  
  
Emmett turned and gave Justin a look. "Brian is letting us use his place because of you...as long as you flash that mega watt smile at him and shake your ass, I'm pretty sure he won't change his mind."  
  
Justin stared at Emmett, and then burst out laughing. "Em, are you crazy? You're his friend - we both are. That's why he's helping us."  


* * *

  
  
  
Justin couldn't be serious? Emmett was incredulous. "Oh baby, do you actually believe that? Have you  _seen_ the way Brian looks at you? "   
  
Justin stared blankly at Emmett.   
  
"Sweetie, those looks Mr. Kinney throws your way - they don't generally fall under the heading of ‘friendship'."  
  
Justin laughed again. "Well, that's all we are - friends. With a bit of benefits, I guess."  
  
"I've been Brian's friend forever - what you have with him is way more than that." Emmett couldn't believe that Justin was living under this delusion.  
  
Justin was smiling, but to Emmett, he looked kind of sad at the same time. "Em, Brian has known me since I was a fourteen year old kid, and he's been looking out for me ever since. He feels responsible for me - always has, always will. That's all it is. With a bit of sex thrown in for good measure."  
  
Emmett had never imagined that he'd have this opportunity to find out what everyone had been wondering about since that night at Babylon.   
  
"I've been meaning to ask you about that...all Brian would say was that the two of you went to school together. But you're much younger than him...and now you say he's always looked out for you...what exactly is the deal with that?"  
  
Justin looked at Emmett, and smiled a genuine smile. "I appreciate the fact that you asked what you wanted to ask up front, without beating around the bush. But there's nothing much to it, really. We grew up in the same town, in Atlanta, and I'm not that much younger to him actually. Just five years. Anyways. I got bumped up a couple of classes, since I was super smart." Justin winked at Emmett.  
  
"It's been so long since I spoke about school with anyone. It kind of feels good to be able to talk about it with you. I was just so out of place, you know? We - my parents, that is - were rich and had this really cushy life that most of the other kids didn't, and they resented me for it. Plus, I was way too young, and I didn't make a secret of the fact that I was queer - at least in school. I thought that if I seemed bohemian enough, nobody would care that I was gay. Of course, in my head, being bohemian meant colouring your hair in various shades of black and blue, and dressing like a hippy...did I mention that this was on top of the prescription glasses?" Justin chuckled.   
  
"Suffice to say that I was everyone's favourite punch line. And punching bag...for a while at least. I used to get picked on, until Brian put a stop to that. Even then, he was Brian fucking Kinney, so kids did what he told them to do...but it wasn't like Brian knew me when he did that, and I'm not sure why he stuck up for me...but he did, and that's how I got to know Brian. And then I started struggling in chemistry, and Brian started to help me out on an unofficial basis because I didn't want my parents finding out..."  
  
Justin looked as if he was going to continue, but his next words showed an abrupt change in track. "And here I go rambling - that's the basic gist of it. So, that's what I'll always be to Brian - this kid who needs protection; who needs looking after."  
  
Emmett remained silent. Justin may have spoken casually, but Emmett knew that his experience in school had left a lasting impression on Justin - or maybe the correct expression to use would be scarred for life. Emmett hadn't had the best of times growing up either, and he could easily imagine what Justin had gone through. And perhaps because of that, he didn't need Justin to spell out the role Brian had played in his life. Clearly there was more of the story that Justin was omitting - but Emmett didn't need to hear it to know that Justin was obviously besotted with Brian. For all Justin's theorizing about Brian's feelings, he hadn't even once expressed a lack of interest in the topic; just disguised disappointment.  
  
Well, without knowing the whole story, Emmett couldn't really argue with Justin, so he decided to try another tactic. "Ok, then. We'll go with your theory. So Brian...all he's doing is looking after you. Would you say he's doing an ok job of it?"  
  
Justin smiled. "I don't  _need_  looking after...but yeah, I guess I'd say that he's doing a pretty ok ...pretty good...job of it."  
  
"Don't let the Armani suits and the fancy job fool you; Brian can barely look after himself, let alone another human being. Give him a plastic tree and he'll struggle to keep it alive. Even though it's plastic. And you're telling me that he's doing a good job looking after you? Sweetie - even if he's doing a  _bad_ job looking after you, you should wonder why he's even bothering to make the effort...it  _has_  been ten years. Whether you believe it or not, you've managed to collar the stud of Liberty Avenue - and Aunty Em is  _never_  wrong about these things."  
  
"Oh Emmett, you're really stretching it. Mark my words; Brian has sex with me a couple of times and he'll be moving on to his next conquest before you can blink."  
  
"Huh? He's  _already_  had sex with you a couple of times."  
  
"Uh...yeah...I meant a couple of more times..."  
  
Emmett frowned at Justin. "He really makes you dizzy, doesn't he? Here's what: you have sex with him every night we practice at his place, and by Sunday, if Brian has lost interest in you, I'll cut my nose off."  
  
"Emmett! Don't be crazy! Anyway, I think one ridiculous bet on Brian and my having sex is more than enough."  
"Sweetie, this isn't a bet. It's more like...fortune telling. Ok, so I won't cut my nose off. But let's look at it this way: if the opportunity arises for you to have sex with Brian this week, I'm imploring you to take it, without shooting dirty looks my way.  _If_ Brian has lost interest in you by Sunday, you're at least going to have enjoyed what I'm assuming is fabulous sex for a week. But my money is on Brian still wanting to bask in some of that sunshine."  
  
"Em, you're crazy!"  
  
"So I've been told...besides, I was never in favour of that bizarre bet to begin with, so this isn't a bet. Think of this as an experiment in fortune telling. "  
  
" _An experiment in fortune telling...?_ "  
  
"Uh-huh. Now, here we are. And sweetie, if you ever need a willing ear, I'm here for you ok?" Emmett gave Justin's shoulder a small squeeze before walking into Brian's building.

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	18. Chapter 18

**Monday evening (the same day) , at Brian's loft** _  
_  
  
For the first fifteen minutes, Brian left them alone, typing away on his computer, and Emmett figured that he and Justin would be left to their own devices. As usual, Brian ended up surprising him. It started when Emmett and Justin were arguing over which Cher song to try.  
  
"Girls, girls, I hope you're just warming up and not seriously considering doing a Cher number."  
  
"Cher has always been a crowd favourite..."Emmett started.  
  
"You're singing in a karaoke contest on Liberty Avenue. Every queen will be doing Cher. And Madonna. And Celine Dion. And Gloria Gaynor. Find another song."  
  
"Er...another _two_ songs" Justin said sheepishly.  
  
Brian stared at both of them, and Emmett had to look away embarrassed.  
  
"You can thank me later. Find two other songs." Brian stated.  
  
"How about _‘Don't Stop Believing'?_ Everyone loves Journey."  
  
Brian ambled towards them. "Sunshine, stay away from Journey. Glee kind of ruined them for karaoke for at least 5 years."  
  
_"Bohemian Rhapsody?"  
_  
"Too long." This time, both Emmett and Brian answered.  
  
Justin scrunched up his face. "Great - so exactly what kind of song are we looking for?"  
  
Emmett watched in amusement as Brian ruffled Justin's hair. "Don't frown. It's not as easy to get rid of those lines as it is acquiring them. Now. You need songs that will show that you can sing, but doesn't need to be one that will land you a record deal. Find songs that are upbeat, that will have the crowd going in your favour, are well known, and not likely to be sung by the other half a dozen fairies that will be there."  
  
"Kiss? _I was made for loving you?"_  
  
"Keep it as a backup. The entire song is delivered in the same tone, and you don't get to strum a guitar. Not much talent displayed."  
  
"Brian!"  
  
"Tut tut tut...save your voice Sunshine." Brian earned a glare from Justin. "Try Springsteen. _Dancing in the Dark_ or _Born in the USA_. Try them both and pick the one you two are better at."

 

* * *

  
Seeing is believing I guess, Emmett thought, as he watched Brian and Justin argue over a song. Before too long, Brian had shortlisted a set of songs that, together with the DVD collection Emmett had brought and the internet, he was making the two of them sing, whittling the list down further and further. _When did Brian Kinney turn into Simon Cowell?  
_  
Emmett also noticed that Brian paid far more attention to nitpicking Justin than he did to Emmett. Of course, logically speaking, it could have been because the bulk of the vocal work fell on Justin's plate, but Emmett had a hard time believing that that was the reason. At least, it couldn't be the only reason. If Justin actually believed that Brian had no interest in him, well, then maybe Justin needed to get his eyesight tested, Emmett thought. He tuned his ears onto the Brian-Justin frequency to hear them continue to argue.  
  
" - again."  
  
"Are you crazy?" Justin looked completely exasperated. "It sounded terrible the first time round. Next song."  
  
"It didn't sound terrible. Not even close. In fact, it was Emmett's best so far."  
  
"Well, it's certainly not _my_ best, so next song. Please."  
  
"It's not your best, because you're not pushing yourself. Sunshine, try again. Emmett agrees, don't you Emmett?"  
  
"Well, sweetie..."  
  
"See, he agrees." Brian saved Emmett from actually having to agree.  
  
Justin looked at Brian mutinously. "Bri, you are out of your mind. I can't hit those notes. This is _not_ American Idol! Why can't we just pick another goddamn song? An easier one?"  
  
" _Everyone_ will be singing easier songs. Just try harder." Brian was annoyingly calm, and Emmett thought that Justin would actually hit Brian (which he personally thought might be interesting to see).  
  
"Aaaaaargh! _You_ fucking try harder!" Justin exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.  
  
As quick as lightning, Brian had closed the distance between himself and Justin, and pulled Justin by his waistband against his own body, so that they were practically glued together. Emmett could only watch, fascinated, as the two men performed a mating dance with only their eyes.  
  
"Tell me when you think I've tried _hard_ enough, ok?" Brian purred to Justin.  
  
Emmett was completely engrossed in the scene unfolding in front of him, and he had to force himself to put an end to it. "Ahem. _I_ think it's hard enough. Really. There's an audience here."  
  
"Honeycutt, why don't you go take a walk around the block? A couple of times?" Neither Brian nor Justin had moved. Well, Emmett didn't know if Justin _could_ move, given the grip Brian had on him.  
  
"Or, how about we finish what we came to do, and then I can see myself out while you and Justin fuck yourselves senseless?"  
  
"I can live with that. How about you ask Justin to give this song another shot, and then you'll have your three songs."  
  
Brian relaxed his hold on Justin, who took several steps back, and resumed with his annoyed expression. "Don't I get to answer?"  
  
Emmett watched in bemusement as Brian smiled a sultry smile as he rubbed his thigh against Justin's crotch. "Oh but Justin, you _did_ answer...I heard you loud and clear. Now stop being such a fucking princess, and sing the damn song again. Emmett has things to do and places to go."  
  
Emmett laughed outright at that, and walked over to Justin, putting an arm across his shoulder. "Come on baby. I hate to say it, but Brian is probably right. Let's try this again, ok?" As Emmett pulled Justin away from Brian, he casually whispered to Justin. "Now remember what I told you. Don't let your pride and insecurities keep you from grabbing onto what fate has delivered at your doorstep."  


* * *

  
  
  
**Tuesday**  
  
  
  
His class started at eleven, so he was sleeping in. At least, he had tried to sleep in, but loud curses from Daphne earlier on, presumably due to a wardrobe malfunction, had woken him up. He flipped onto his stomach, and inhaled deeply from the sleeve of his t-shirt. Justin still wore the same clothes from yesterday, and those clothes smelled of Brian.  
  
Brian had been right. Justin had been loathe to admit it last night, but he readily acquiesced to the fact now. He _had_ ended up making a more serious effort, and they had finally selected their three songs - _What I Like About You_ by The Romantics, _Shot Through The Heart_ by Bon Jovi, and _Poison_ by Alice Cooper. Now they had three nights to practice the songs.  
  
Justin didn't remember when or what they had eaten for dinner. He did remember beating Brian at a game of trivial music facts, and making Brian sing...and only Brian Kinney would try and sing _You Think You're A Man_ on karaoke. Justin could only guess that that was when Emmett made his silent exit, because that was about the time he fell under Brian's spell, which was just a few short minutes before he fell under Brian body. Just felt himself grow hard just thinking about it.  
  
Justin had not expected to find his way into Brian's bed a second night in a row, but it had somehow happened. Emmett was wrong - Justin was pretty certain that Brian's interest in him was limited to a misplaced sense of guilt and a desire for some continued, out-of-this-fucking-world sex.  
  
Still...Brian was...Brian was Brian, and he seemed interested. At least in the sex. Justin knew that way to Brian Kinney's heart definitely wasn't through his stomach, and to assume that it was through his cock was a leap of faith, but right now, that was about all he had to work with. Not that he had any intention of being a pushover - at least, Justin was _trying_ not to be a pushover. It was proving increasingly difficult to hold his own against the Kinney magic. Justin had just barely managed to find the strength last night - physically, mentally and emotionally - to pull himself together and find his way back home. He could swear that Brian had looked almost hurt when Justin had got ready to leave... _but he didn't stop me_. So whatever that emotion had been, no way could it have been hurt.  
  
But this was too much, too soon. Justin was overworked and exhausted, but he was happy. And this strange thing he had going with Brian - he was actually enjoying it. He felt like a high school girl; giddy with excitement at the thought of going to the diner, at the thought of going to Vanguard, at the thought of walking down Liberty Avenue - at the thought of doing anything where he'd meet Brian. But he was giddy and terrified at the same time, which wasn't good. He was supposed to be calling the shots here, and how the hell was that going to happen when his treacherous body kept giving the game away?  
  
That's when Justin decided that he needed reinforcements for that evening's rehearsal, and that reinforcement certainly wasn't going to come in the form of Emmett, who would probably be happy to skip rehearsing altogether if Justin and Brian got too close to each other...so Justin decided to call the one person who could put Brian's sex drive to sleep with just a look - Melanie.  
  
And it worked like a charm...Justin turned up with Lindsay, who predictably came with Melanie. Emmett, heaven bless his soul, kept his opinion to himself, but one look from Brian told Justin exactly how he felt. Inside, Justin grinned to himself. _That's right. Putting the brakes on for one night will do me a world of good._  


 

* * *

  
  
  
**Wednesday**  
  
  
Which helped him for exactly one evening. Because on Wednesday, Brian stopped by his desk at work and looked Justin in the eye. "My doors are open for you  & Honeycutt. Not for the whole of Liberty fucking Avenue. So tonight, don't turn up with the hundred and one Dalmatians."  
  
And that night, when Justin started picking his clothes up off the floor and getting dressed to leave, so did Brian. He claimed that he was going by Babylon, but what he actually did do was drop Justin home. Whether he went to Babylon afterwards or not was anybody's guess. Justin was too busy trying to maintain his balance on cloud nine to actually give it much thought.

* * *

  
  
  
**Thursday**  
  
Justin had to sleep alone on Thursday night. Emmett, unaware of the exact nature of events of the previous nights and coming to his own conclusions, had decided to turn into a mother hen. He insisted that they sleep early, and get _adequate rest_ (and Emmett specifically emphasized those words) and ended up herding Justin out of Brian's place himself.  
  
It took Justin many attempts to make contact with his practical side, and rationalize that Emmett was indeed correct.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
**Friday**  
  
  
Justin was nervous. He knew he shouldn't be - it was just karaoke, and it was for fun - but he was still nervous. Emmett wanted to win, and not so deep inside, so did Justin. But most of all, he didn't want to disappoint Brian.  
  
Daphne's exams were mercifully over, and she was coming with Justin for the preliminaries at Woody's. Since it was at six in the evening, Justin expected the place to be packed with hopeful contestants outnumbering audience members by approximately 3 to 1. At least. He figured that was a good thing, because that would give him time to calm his nerves.  
  
What he didn't expect to find when he walked into Woody's was Brian and Ted, who were talking to Emmett. _Shouldn't they be at work? Or on the way home at least?_  
  
"Is that Brian?" Daphne hissed at him. "He's to die for! Are you sure he isn't straight?"  
  
Justin giggled in spite of his nerves. "I used to wonder about that myself for several years, but I'm pretty damn sure that he's gay."  
  
"And you must be Daphne. You're hot. You're going to have a lot of women drooling over you tonight."  
  
Brian and Emmett both grinned at Daphne, and she turned a distinct shade of crimson.  
  
Ted smiled kindly at her. "Women hitting on you is a good thing, at least in this neighbourhood."  
  
Justin didn't hear the rest of their conversation, as Brian stood in front of him. He also didn't notice the other three headed towards the bar, leaving Justin alone with Brian. "Nervous?"  
  
"Nope." Justin attempted to smile brightly.  
  
Brian laughed. "Haven't I told you before that you're a piss poor liar? Now listen. You're fucking brilliant, and you and I both know that you're the best singer here. So just go on up there, shake that ass and have fun ok? And get ready for a private encore tonight."  
  
"What if we don't win?" Justin asked quietly.  
  
"Sunshine, you've already won." Brian kissed Justin softly on the lips before tugging him in the direction of where Emmett was.  
  
True to Emmett's predictions, they sailed through the preliminaries, and got to sit around drinking till eight o'clock. Well, Justin and Emmett didn't drink, but the other three did.  
  
His embarrassment grew about a thousand-fold when, by seven twenty, their cheering squad arrived. Debbie, loud and bustling, turned up with the elusive Uncle Vic, Melanie and Lindsay. Michael followed soon after, and he brought Ben Bruckner in tow. Justin was relieved that Ben didn't hint or allude to the contents of their initial meeting at all.  
  
By the time the semi-finals came along, Justin was having too much fun to be nervous. He had Brian on one side and Daphne on the other, and to Justin, that was as close to perfection as it was going to get. _The effect this man has on me - I need to invent a word to describe it._  
  
And when they announced Emmett Honeycutt and Justin Taylor as the winners, all Justin could do was stare into Brian's smiling eyes, even while he was being enveloped by both Emmett and Daphne.  


* * *

  
  
  
It was a few minutes after the winners had been announced, and Emmett had gone with Brian and Ted to the bar to order drinks for the gang. It was free-for-all karaoke after that, and Justin was listening to Daphne tell him which song she wanted to sing with him. He wondered why she suddenly stopped midsentence and started grinning instead, when he felt an arm snake around his waist and pull him back. And then he felt Brian's voice in his ear, his breath tingling Justin's neck.  
  
_"I'm whispering in your ear  
Telling you all the things that you wanna hear" _  
  
Brian actually crooned in his ear. The play on lyrics wasn't lost on Justin.  
  
"How about we blow this joint now, and you give me that private encore?"  
  
Justin turned his head smiling, and was greeted by Brian's lips on his. _I could get used to this._  
  
It was almost a minute before Justin could come up for air. "I want to enjoy my idol-hood a bit longer - no one has even left yet."  
  
He was completely oblivious to the expressions of amusement - and surprise - that almost everyone had on their faces, though they all pretended to be otherwise occupied.  
  
"So all it takes is one person to leave?" Brian looked at Daphne. "Daphne, you want me to drop you somewhere? Some place with hot, straight men who will all be salivating after a woman as beautiful as yourself?"  
  
Daphne blushed and was about to reply when a familiar voice stopped her.  
  
"No wonder Hansel and Gretel weren't answering their phones...I had to follow the breadcrumbs all the way to Woody's...oh well, at least I managed to catch part of the show."  
  
Justin and Daphne both turned to look at the owner of the voice, their expressions changing instantly.  
  
  
"Cody."

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	19. Chapter 19

It was just a stupid Karaoke competition, and Brian was having blast. And it was all because of a certain blonde. Michael had specifically told Brian that he wanted everyone to head to Babylon afterwards - something about wanting Ben to mix with his friends or some such - but Brian wanted to be alone with Justin. 

He had been certain that spending every day of the week  with Justin would rid his system of this inexplicable need for the blonde, but no such thing had happened. Not only had he wanted Justin more and more, he had even picked up a new habit of actually dropping Justin back home, since the blonde was adamant about falling asleep in his own damn bed. Brian was certain that he would be making the same trip tonight. Justin was like crack, Brian thought. An addictive, blonde, living, breathing, walking perfect specimen of crack.

Which is how he found himself singing in Justin's ear, and teasing both Justin and Daphne.  He felt Justin's entire body stiffen, before he heard the name.

"Cody." Justin and Daphne uttered the name together.

With Justin's back to him, Brian couldn't see his expression; he could only feel the sudden tension in Justin's body. He could, however, see Daphne's face. And she looked liked she was sucking a lemon.

Brian looked at Cody - so this was Justin's ‘psycho friend'. Brian didn't know if he should be thanking him for helping Justin help him, or if he should have Cody against the wall for roughing up Justin. He took in Cody's appearance - crew cut, blood shot eyes, obvious muscle and the callused hands. Maybe having Cody against the wall wasn't such a good idea.

Justin spoke. "What are you doing - is everything ok? Is - did something...?"

Justin was almost leaning against Brian now, and Brian didn't let go of his hold on Justin. Brian could hear the obvious worry and fear in Justin's voice, and Daphne's expression of fear and dread did nothing to ease Brian's own mounting fear. _Had_ _Kip done something?_

Cody opened his mouth to speak, but it was Debbie's voice that everyone heard.

"Hey there sweetheart, you a friend of Sunshine's?"

"Sunshine?" Cody stared blankly at Debbie before realization dawned. ‘Oh, Justin...yeah. Yeah, I'm a friend of his."

Brian saw Ted look at him, confused. Brian could only look back at Ted, equally confused, arm still placed firmly around Justin. Brian was _not_ letting Justin go.

Debbie was yammering on. "Here, have a beer. I'm Debbie, that's Brian, behind Justin. That's Justin's friend Daphne -"

"Daphne and I know each other."

"Oh, well, of course you do. This is my son Michael, and that's Ben, Emmett and Ted, my brother Vic, and that's Lindsay and Melanie."

Cody attempted to smile at them, ill at ease. Not that Deb would notice, Brian thought grimly.

"Do you go to PIFA with Justin?" Emmett was smiling at Cody, obviously liking what he saw.

"No, no I don't. We know each other from Brooklyn."

"Oh, wow, so you're from Brooklyn? Were you classmates there?"

Brian was interested in knowing the answer to that question, but when he saw Cody look at Justin before answering the question, he knew that anything they said would at best be a variant of the truth, more so when Justin answered the question.

"Cody runs a tattoo parlour there. I used to work there, part time."

Brian shot Ted a look, which was thankfully interpreted correctly. Ted summoned the presence of both Emmett and Debbie, the only people who seemed to be interested in Cody.

"Cody, what are you doing here? Is everything ok?"

Brian didn't like the concern in Justin's voice. He liked it even less when Justin slowly removed Brian's arm from his waist and moved towards Cody.

Cody looked from Justin to Daphne (who still seemed to be sucking a lemon) and then back to Justin. "Well, I came to see you, but you're celebrating, so why don't we talk tomorrow? You'll be sober and...and we'll have the whole day to talk."

"Uh...sure, I guess...where are you staying?"

"Right now, in my car. I was hoping that I could crash at your place...I could avoid getting a room and all..."

Cody gave Justin a look and Brian had no clue as to what it meant. He was still standing behind Justin, so could only see Daphne's face, and her expression had remained the same since Cody had arrived.

"Sure...right Daph?" Justin looked at Daphne, who nodded, almost in resignation. "But I wasn't going to leave just yet...but I guess..." Justin looked at Daphne again before continuing. "Here, why don't you take my keys and head home? We'll talk tomorrow? Unless you want to hang around here...?" Justin's voice trailed off.

Cody scoffed. "Yeah, right. I'll take your keys."

Brian watched as Justin fished in his pocket for his house keys and handed it to Cody, and then he topped that off with actually giving Cody a hug. Daphne just stood by and watched, nodding at Cody as he left with Justin's keys.

Brian felt an insane wave of jealousy roll over him. Justin trusted Cody - trusted him enough to turn to him for help with Kip; it was one thing living with that knowledge when Cody was just a name, but now, when the elusive Cody actually turned up, it was a different matter.

This was also presumably one of Justin's friends who would stop the world from spinning if he asked them to. Justin would _ask_ Cody for help, which presupposed the fact that he would actually tell Cody what the problem was. Unlike the Fort Justin that came up when Brian so much as dared ask anything.

And to add insult to injury, Justin was actually giving his house keys to Cody. The selfsame Justin, who couldn't bear to spend a single night in Brian's bed unless he was rendered unconscious, was happy to share his whole fucking half-an-apartment with Cody. _Who the fuck is this Cody?_

"Brian?" Brian looked at Justin, who had somehow managed to speak to Michael in the time that Brian was cursing Cody. "Michael wants to go to Babylon..."

"And?" _Damn it._ Brian hadn't meant to sound so curt.

"And maybe we could drop by Babylon? You know, before your private encore?"

Brian put his arm around Justin's shoulder. "It's your night, Sunshine. We do whatever _you_ want to do. So, if you wanna head to Babylon, we'll head to Babylon."

Justin looked up at him, smiling brightly. "Let's go to Babylon! Daph, will you join us?"

Daphne looked thoughtful, and then replied. "You know, maybe you guys could drop me at Kevin's place on your way to Babylon?"

"Not a problem." Brian smiled at her, and decided that he liked Daphne.

The next chance Brian had to speak to Justin in relative privacy was when Emmett, Michael and Vic had taken the stage to sing their own version of Britney Spears.

Brian tried to keep his voice as casual as possible. "So, tell me about this Cody. You working in a tattoo parlour is a slight stretch for the imagination." _I'm giving you an opening Justin...please don't come up with another lie._

Justin stared at his glass for a while before he answered. His voice was eerily calm. "You said you read about me...read about what Hobbs...what he did."

Brian had not anticipated that. "I did..." He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, but fortunately, Justin continued.

"Hobbs hit - bashed - whatever - and, well, he left, obviously. Cody happened to walk by about - I dunno - fifteen or twenty minutes later I guess. He's the one who found me. The one who called 911. Mom came later, obviously, but I didn't want to come back to Pittsburgh and she had to look after Molly as well, and Pittsburgh and Brooklyn aren't the easiest cities to shuttle between.  Daphne was backpacking through Europe -  I didn't let anyone call her - I didn't want her to ruin her year off because of me."

"Justin..."

Justin smiled ruefully. "Well, I got my way, and Daph didn't find out till she got back. And I forced mom to stay here. Anyways, I was alone - more or less - in Brooklyn, and Cody helped me out. I couldn't attend class, I was going stir crazy on my own, so he got me to do cash at his tattoo joint...long story short."

Brian not expected Justin bring up Chris Hobbs, in any manner or form, and at Woody's, of all places. That too in relation Cody. But at least Justin was talking. This was progress, though it only marginally helped quell the jealousy he still felt. Cody had been there for Justin, when he had no one else to turn to.  

Brian pulled Justin closer to him and spoke softly to him. "You idiot. People adore you. They _want_ to help you. I'm sure Daphne would have cut of an arm and a leg to have come back to you, had you given her that chance. You don't have to play the stoic hero all the fucking time. Sometimes it takes more courage to ask for help than not to ask."

"Ha! Look who's talking about stoic heroism. So you're telling me that I can ask for things I want and the people around me would be more than happy to oblige? Because they all adore me?"

Brian knew that he was walking into a trap, but that bright smile and blue eyes were slowly reeling him. "Sunshine, isn't that what I just told you?"

But whatever Justin had planned on saying - or doing - didn't happen, as Michael interrupted them, announcing that the party was moving to Babylon.

 

* * *

 

As jealous as Brian was of Cody, Cody turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

He had dropped Daphne at her boyfriend's place on the way to Babylon, and they had all gotten sufficiently wasted at Babylon before Brian had dragged Justin back to the loft. Brian was certain that one of these days, he would end up fucking Justin on the dance floor at Babylon. Actually, the idea was not half bad...Brian sat up in bed to see what Justin was doing.

"What are you doing?"

"You tore my shirt." Justin wore a cross between a pout and a glare. In fact, that was all he was wearing at the moment.

"It was in the way. Is there a particular point you're trying to make, or were you just observing?"

"What am I supposed to wear now?"

"I don't really require that you wear anything at all while I fuck you..."

Justin narrowed his eyes. "I need to go home."

Brian slapped his palm onto his forehead in mock surprise. "Well _of course_ you do. How could I be so forgetful? We mustn't waste another minute." Brian didn't move so much as a fingernail though.

"You can wear your torn shirt, I'll throw something on, and then I'll drive you all the way to Isabella Street, at which point you'll realize that you gave your keys to Cody, and that Daphne's over at her boyfriend. Then we can start waking either of them up, in the middle of the night, so that you can get inside to sleep. Or were you planning on sleeping on the porch?"

"Oh fuck." Justin clearly hadn't realized the consequences of giving his key to Cody.

"Let's fuck, I'm sure, is what you meant. Maybe a couple of times more. After which, we can go to sleep, in a bed, instead of the porch."

Over an hour later, Justin had molded himself into Brian's side - clearly his favourite position - and Brian could feel the silky hair on his shoulder.

_Cody might get the keys, but at least that got Justin to stay the night._

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	20. Chapter 20

**Saturday afternoon**

 

Justin had wanted to stay in bed as long as possible. This is not how he had wanted to end up spending the night at Brian's, but he'd take whatever he got, especially since it was unlikely that he would be fortunate enough to get another chance like this. How much longer would it be before Brian got bored with him?

When he had woken up, Brian had still been in bed. With him. It was just too perfect...he had moved closer to Brian and had just enjoyed the warmth and the contact and the joy of just being there. Of course, when Brian eventually stirred, Justin decided to wake him up, by waking him _up_.

After screwing Justin well and good in the shower, Brian had offered to drop him back at his place after they grabbed some lunch at the diner. But before making it to the diner, Justin needed something to wear, seeing as how Brian had ruined his shirt from the previous evening...not that it had been a bad thing.

"Will you stop pouting and just wear something of mine? I swear you throw worse tantrums than Gus."

Justin tried to glare at Brian, but didn't quite succeed. He only managed to pout even more. "Your t-shirts don't fit!"

Brian sighed. "From here to the diner, and then to your place. Does it _really_ matter how snug your t-shirt will be?"

"Yes. And the shoulders won't fit. Your clothes say Brian Kinney, Brand Whore. If I wore your t-shirts, I'd look like a reject from a Vanilla Ice video."

Brian smiled sweetly at him. "Ok princess, why don't you just go back to bed while I drive to diner, pick up food, swing by your place, get you one of your own t-shirts, and then come back?"

Even though he knew that Brian was joking, Justin couldn't help but brighten up like a child who was given candy. "Really?"

"No. Now can you please pick something to wear, so that we can leave? I'm hungry, and at this point, a protein shake is just not going to cut it."

Justin giggled, as he went through Brian's closet once more, finally picking out the smallest, tightest black t-shirt he could find. "That's entirely your fault. If you had any proper food at home, I could have made lunch, and you could've had the protein shake as an appetizer."

Brian grinned wolfishly. "Who says I'm not going to have an appetizer now?"

Justin laughed. "Bri, did you hear anything else I said?"

"Sure I did, Sunshine.  So next time you come over, bring groceries and then you can cook."

_Next time?_ So there was going to _be_ a next time? _And he had to cook?_ Justin was afraid to hope...could Emmett be right? Unlikely... Brian was probably just trying to have the last word.

Justin was unable to think about it much more, as he felt Brian tug at the waistband off his pants.

 

* * *

 

Now curled up on the couch waiting for Cody to return from his phone call (Daphne still wasn't home), Justin was wishing that he was at the loft, cooking. Whatever this visit from Cody was about, there was no way it was going to be good news.

Cody walked back into the room, cigarette in hand.

"Jeremy's dead."

" _What?"_

"Jeremy's dead."

"Fuck...Cody... _fuck..._ how...when...how did he...?"

Justin wanted to reach out and touch Cody, but he knew better. Cody was someone who dealt with grief very differently.

Justin had first met Jeremy when he had started working at the tattoo parlour after getting bashed; Jeremy had been a 15 year old runaway that Cody had literally picked up off the streets. Justin had never asked about Jeremy's background - all Justin knew was that he had run away from an abusive home. It could have been because he was gay, but it could just as easily have been for some other reason...or no reason at all. Justin being averse to talking about his own past had respected Jeremy's silence.

Jeremy had been an extremely shy and quiet kid when Justin had been there, which was one of the reasons that Cody had never even attempted to get him involved in the Pink Posse. Justin had always wondered if there was something more going on between Cody and Jeremy, but it had been none of his business, and he had respected Cody's privacy.

And now Jeremy was dead...

"They killed him."

"What? Jeremy was _killed?_ Who...?"

There was a reason Cody was here.  Justin closed his eyes, as if by sheer force of will he could change the world. Jeremy was dead and Cody was here looking for Justin. This could only mean one thing.

"Those homophobic motherfuckers from LAC...I _know_ it was them."

Justin frowned, trying to dredge his memory so that he wouldn't have to ask Cody any more questions than necessary. LAC... LAC...LAC...a gang? Yes, that was it. It was some small-time gang that Justin remembered as being virulently homophobic as well as rabidly anti-immigrant. Well, anti almost everything. But they operated from a different neighbourhood; how did Jeremy get involved...?

"How...?"

"It doesn't matter how I found out...it was them." 

"Cody...how did Jeremy get mixed up with those fuckers?"

"A fucking pledge. They killed him over a fucking pledge." Cody's voice was icy and calm. And that scared Justin more than a screaming, ranting Cody. 

"A _pledge_?" He wished that Cody would just tell him what the fuck happened.

"Yeah. A pledge. Best I could find out, LAC wanted to test a new recruit, and what better prop than a faggot, right? I don't know how they found Jeremy...maybe they were watching the neighbourhood...maybe they happened across him on his way home...I dunno. There were eight of them. _Eight_ of them. Against Jeremy...police report said that ‘the assailants' had forced their way inside his apartment...he had cigarette burns, and they had fucked him with a beer bottle.  Before or after they beat him, I don't know. Landlord found him in the morning, bleeding to death in his own fucking living room...dead on arrival."

"Cody..."

Cody looked at Justin for the first time. "You have to come with me. We're going to teach those motherfuckers a lesson they won't _ever_ forget. When I'm through with them, they're going to regret the day they were ever born."

Justin stared at Cody. "Are you fucking _insane?!_  They will _kill_ you! Look, listen, Cody - what happened to Jeremy is unforgivable, but getting yourself killed is _not_ the way to avenge his death."

"Justin, I'm not going to get killed. I have a plan. We can -"

"Cody! _Eight_ of them attacked Jeremy; and you think just the two of us can take them on? There is no fucking _way_ we're going to be able to do this...Cody, man, come on. What are you planning on doing, anyway? Are you going to kill them?"

"Death would be too kind. I'm going to make them suffer, the same way Jeremy suffered."

Justin felt bile rising in his throat. "They will find you, and then they will kill you. And then they will kill me."

"Not if we're careful. Look, Justin, I have a plan."

"No fucking way! Cody, I loved Jeremy too, but this is _not_ the way. He wouldn't want this! _I_ don't want this. This is just too goddamn dangerous...I'm sorry Cody, but you'll have to find someone else."

" _Someone else?_ Who the fuck do you think I am? Don Corleone? Where the fuck am I supposed to find someone I can trust who'll agree to help me?"

"Cody, go to the police with whatever information you've got. Let them handle this. Let the police -"

Cody let out a short, harsh laugh. "Taylor, what are they feeding you here? Straw? You want me to go to the fucking police? As if they'll do anything. You think cops actually want to help a bunch of fags? Pull your head out of your ass Justin!"

Justin remembered Horvath. "I know a cop. Here. He'll help us, I know he will. Let's go talk -"

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you? Did you not hear a word I just said? The fucking police is _not_ on our side. And even if your miracle cop helped us, and then what? Do you really think that queers will get any justice in this world? Andrew Shirvell is getting paid by the fucking government and you expect me to run to the police?!"

Justin felt physically ill. He barely had time to digest what happened to Jeremy, and here he was, being asked to leap head first into an abyss.

"Cody, there has to be a limit. Even if we beat up every homophobe on the entire East coast, it still won't bring Jeremy back."

Cody glared at him. "No, but it sure as hell will stop someone else from suffering Jeremy's fate. How can you stand there and refuse to help me when you know that you'll actually be doing something that counts? Something that will help other queers out there?"

"I am _not_ responsible for every homosexual out there!"

Cody scoffed. "No, you're just responsible for Brian Kinney; the one homosexual who needs no help."

Justin's face turned stony. "This isn't about Brian. Keep him out of it."               

"Fine. Let's keep Brian out of it. How about we talk about Chris Hobbs instead? He took a bat to your head and took four years from your life, and you did fuck all about it. That's why these fuckers think they can get away with this shit - because nobody tells them that they can't in a language they'll understand. And now Jeremy is dead. How many more queers have to get hit on the head before you realize that you need to do something about it? How many more Jeremys have to die?"

Justin buried his face in his hands. He felt his sanity slipping away, bit by bit. No matter how hard he ran or how far, Chris Hobbs always seemed to catch up with him.

"Justin. You needed help with Brian, and I pulled through for you. I'm asking you to return the favour. Please."

 

* * *

 

**Sunday afternoon**

 

As they walked across the park for the fourth time, Michael decided to put his whining into overdrive. 

"Brian, we've walked around this fucking park four times already. Whoever was waiting for you must be long gone by now."

"God Mikey, would you shut up? We're not that late. Now what the fuck are Elder trees? That's where we're supposed to be."

"Call Emmett and he might be able to tell you. Better still, call Ted. Brian, we've been walking for almost half an hour now. Maybe longer. Who's this person you're meeting again?"

"For the third time Mikey: I. Don't. Know. Some woman called, told that it was urgent that she met with me, and asked me to be here."

What Brian didn't tell Michael was that he would never have turned up to meet some random woman after receiving such a cryptic message, except that he could swear he heard Justin's voice in the background just before the woman cut the line. And then he began to get a nagging feeling that the voice on the phone sounded very much like a certain Daphne Chanders.

"So why am I here?"

"I don't know Mikey - why _are_ you here?" Brian had had to herd Lindsay and Gus out of the loft, and by the time he went downstairs, he had run into Michael who was on his way upstairs. So instead of wasting more time trying to ditch a determined Michael, he brought him along. If it indeed was Daphne, he could always force Michael to leave.

"Isn't that Justin?" Michael had stopped walking.

"Where?"

Michael pointed. "There, sitting on that bench, just behind those bushes. He sat down now, you can't see him. I swear, the guy looked just like Justin, but he was with some girl. I guess I was wrong."

Some girl. _Daphne. What the hell was going on?_ If Cody was here looking for Justin, Brian figured that it had something to do with Kip, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Ok, Mikey, we're going to head over there. Quietly."

"What? Why?"

"Because eavesdropping doesn't work as well when the other guy knows you're there."

Michael opened his mouth again, and then seemed to change his mind, because he mutely followed Brian.

Brian picked up Daphne's voice a few feet away, but Justin's was neither so loud nor so clear.

" - retarded! Justin, just say no. I do _not_ understand why that is so difficult."

"How can I say no? Daphne, Cody is right on almost every count. But most of all - I owe him."

"There is owing someone, and then there is _owing_ someone. This is over and above what he did for you."

"But a deal's a deal. He helped with Kip, and I told him that if he needed help, he could ask me. Daph, I can't go back on my word, especially now. Jeremy is _dead_."

  _Who the fuck was Jeremy?_ Brian also noticed Michael looking at him, mouthing ‘ _Kip?_ '

"Yeah, and you're going to be joining him sooner than later. Look, I'm sorry that this Jeremy is dead, but you agree to help Cody avenge his death, and you are signing your own death warrant. Justin, this isn't just beating people up and waving a gun around - Jeremy is dead, and you and Cody are not going fare much better if you go through with this!"

_What the FUCK had Cody got Justin involved in?_

"You think I don't know that?! Fuck, Daphne, this whole fucking thing is insane! But what am I supposed to do? Cody's right - shit like this happens to people like Jeremy because idiots like me never do anything."

"How can you say that?! What happened to Jeremy had _nothing_ to do with you! It -"

"It has _everything_ to do with me! I let Chris Hobbs get away! Daphne, he bashed me in the head, left me for dead, stole four years from me and all he did was fucking community service!"

Brian had to clamp his hand across Michael's mouth to keep him from talking. Michael looked shell shocked.

Daphne, meanwhile, was struggling to remain calm. "Justin, that's not your fault...you did the best you could...Hobbs doing community service wasn't your fault - it was that stupid judge. And for Cody to suggest otherwise - Justin, can't you see, he's just using you!"

"He came through when I had to do something about Kip. He saved my life when I was bleeding to death, Daphne. He helped me deal with the bashing, he helped me deal with Hobbs - if not for Cody I'd probably still be a fucking zombie. Daph, I _owe_ him."

"Owe him? Justin, you've got it all backwards! First of all, _anyone_ who found you bleeding on the street would have helped you - it just so happened to be Cody. It could just as easily have been a pastor from some church. Secondly, _helped you deal with bashing? With Hobbs?_ Justin, Cody hasn't helped you deal with anything! You're living in denial, and you haven't moved on at all."

Brian could certainly agree with Daphne on that one.

"That's not true!"

"Like hell it isn't. Have you told Brian what happened? Have you told him _why_ you contacted Hobbs?"

Brian's heart almost stopped beating.

"It's none of his business."

"You haven't told him because you're ashamed. Justin, I love you, you know that, but...you haven't dealt with anything. What you need is to see a therapist -"

"I'm not seeing some fucking shrink! I don't need to listen to someone tell me what to feel."

Daphne continued as if Justin hadn't spoken. "What you need is to see a therapist. Cody just used your vulnerability to his own advantage. He tried to turn you into him. And all he did was help you bottle away things that you should have learnt to deal with sometime ago. You owe him nothing. You don't owe _anybody_ anything. And while we're on the topic, Cody desperately needs to get see someone too - he is a loaded gun,waiting to go off. If he hopes to live till he's 30, he needs to get help."

There was a stretch of silence that was eventually broken by Daphne. "We need to find a way to get you out of this."

"Daph, I gave him my word. I can't back out."

"Screw your word! Tell him no! Why can't he just get someone else?"

"Stop screaming Daph, you're making my migraine worse. Cody doesn't have anyone else who'll do anything this dangerous. Besides which, how do I take back my promise? That's not me... ugh... I wish I could...I wish I was somebody else right now. _Anybody_ else."

"Tell him you broke a leg or something...tell him..."

"He's staying at our place - I think he'd notice that both my legs are just fine."

"So then fall down the stairs. Break a leg for real."

"Daphne, are you crazy? I'm not breaking my leg!"

"Oh, so you can take a roofie for Kip, go down to Brooklyn for certain death, but you cannot break a leg and you're calling _me_ crazy? You don't need a shrink, you need to be admitted into an asylum!"

_Justin took a roofie?_

This time, Brian's heart did stop beating.

As he backed away, he felt Michael quietly follow him. For once, neither of them could think of anything to say.

 

** End Notes: **

* What happened to Jeremy is a sanitized, summarized version of an actual homophobic attack that took place in New York on October 21, 2010. The actual event was perpetrated by 11 members of a street gang calling themselves the Latin King Goonies, where they assaulted, robbed, sodomized (alternately with a baseball bat and a wooden plunger), whipped, and burnt two 17 year old gay teens as well as a 30 year old gay man. I believe the victims survived their ordeal

** Brooklyn gangs have strange names like Crips and MCC...LAC is just a similar random collection of letters.

*** Andrew Shirvell is an assistant attorney general from Michigan, who, in his spare time, runs a blog that is dedicated to harassing the openly gay president of the student governmental body at the University of Michigan. He has resigned (or been fired?) from the time that this chapter was written.

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	21. Chapter 21

Brian and Michael were at a nearby cafe, because neither of them had known what else to do or where else to go. Michael's non-stop questions didn't really help Brian formulate a plan either. He had answered parts of it, but Brian was mostly too distracted. He was racking his brain trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.

_Ok_. There was only so long that Daphne and Justin would stay at the park, and if Justin went back to Isabella Street, Brian had no doubt that he would be heading back to Brooklyn with Cody before sunset. So the first order of business would be to keep Justin away from Cody.

"You need to call Justin."

Michael stared at Brian as if he had completely lost it. "What?"

"Call Justin. Make something up. Meet him somewhere and keep him away from his place till I tell you it's ok."

" _What?_ Brian, I barely know the guy! What on earth...?"

"You're right. Be quiet. I need to think." Brian quickly dialed a number.

"Theodore? I need you to something for me. I don't have time to explain, but it is urgent; I wouldn't be calling you otherwise...I don't have time Ted, I'll explain everything later, ok...I need you to call Justin _NOW_ and demand that he go down to Vanguard immediately...Yes, I need to keep him away from Cody until I figure out a plan...yes, _that_ Cody...call Cynthia, figure something out, and get Matt or someone else there as well...I don't know...make up an urgent campaign for someone. Just get Justin down to Vanguard and keep him there till I tell you otherwise...Ted, I cannot stress ...Ted, I don't have time to explain, and I don't time to figure out your story. Call Cynthia, and come up with something. Just do this NOW...yeah yeah yeah...Ted, you _have_ to keep Justin under your watch until I call you and give you the all clear, ok?...well obviously lie to Matt! Just make it believable...ok, later."

Michael was staring at him. "Ted? You called Ted?! _Ted?_ Brian, _Ted_ knows more than I do?! What the _fuck_ is going on?"

"Yes Michael, Ted knows more than you. At some point, if I work out what the fuck to do, you may find out as much as Ted does. For now, I need to figure out how to keep Justin from ruining his life by running off to help Cody..."

Michael sighed deeply. "Well, you can't keep Justin at Vanguard forever. He's going to want to go home at some point."

"Thank you Michael, for pointing out the obvious. I don't think I'd have figured that one out for myself."

Michael glared at him. "If Justin won't listen to his best friend, I doubt that he'd listen to you. I don't see how you're going to help him Brian...I mean, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink."

Brian looked at Michael. "Maybe I need to lead a different horse then."

 

 

* * *

 

**At 36A, Isabella Street (Justin and Daphne's place)**

 

Cody was staring at Brian, his expression a mixture of arrogance and disbelief.

"So let me get this straight: you want me to tell Justin that I _don't_ need his help, head back to Brooklyn, and take care of this shit by myself?"

"You're a smart man Cody. That just about sums it up."

Michael, who had insisted on accompanying Brian, stood silently behind him. Ted had managed to snare Justin to Vanguard, but Daphne sat silently in a corner of the room, watching the proceedings. Both Michael and Daphne remained silent, each of them probably guessing that it was best to let Brian handle the situation.

Cody laughed. "Well Brian, that's simply not going to happen. Unlike you, Justin understands that he needs to give back to his community. He understands what he has to do."

Cody existed in moral universe so alien to Brian that he didn't think he would ever be able to wrap his head around it.

"Bullshit. You're guilt tripping Justin by throwing Chris Hobbs in his face and confusing him beyond the point of reason. This isn't what Justin has to do - your idea of giving back to the community isn't what _anyone_ has to do."   

"Fuck all you know about community! You with your glitzy car and fancy ass job - what do you know about homophobia? What do you know about community?"

"I might know fuck all about community, but I know something protecting the people I care about. If you want to go commit hara-kiri, that's your prerogative. I'm asking you to keep Justin out of this madness."

"Justin _wants_ to do this."

Brian felt an overwhelming desire to bash Cody's head against the wall, and had to remind himself that the most effective way to convince Cody would _not_ be by rearranging his face.

"Justin wants nothing to do with this, you jackass. He's too good a person to break his word to you; the only reason he is doing this is for the sake of his friendship with you and some misplaced sense of gratitude he feels for you. That and your whole guilt trip thing. If you actually believe that Justin would want to do this without your needling, you need to have your head examined."

What Cody actually needed, in Brian's opinion, was a lobotomy. Cody was a dick, and Brian was struggling to control his temper long enough to have the conversation move at all. The incredible sense of jealousy he felt at the mere thought of Cody didn't help matters. 

"That's rich, coming from you. If you knew what Justin did for you -"

Brian interrupted Cody. "If you're talking about Kip Thomas, I'm well aware of that, though I might be a little sketchy on the details."

Cody looked slightly taken aback, but he continued. "So when Justin puts his neck out on the line for you, it's ok. You only have a problem when he helps his other friends? When he does something for all the other queers out there?"

"You think if I knew about the stunt the two of you pulled with Kip, I'd have actually let him do that? I may be a lot of things, but I'm neither crazy nor stupid. But we're getting off topic here. You're risking Justin's life with this demented idea of yours. Not that I particularly care, but you're risking your own life as well. Call it off. At least leave Justin out of it."

"Why do you even care about what happens to Justin? At any rate, I'm not stupid Brian. I have a plan, and I have no intention of getting either Justin or myself killed."

"Your plan will be cold comfort to us when we're standing over Justin's casket. Look, Cody, I don't know you, and what little I _do_ know, I don't like. But I'll tell you this: you will _never_ find a friend as true or loyal or as inherently good as Justin Taylor on your conceivably short stay on this planet. I know that I sure as hell won't. And I'm not willing to lose Justin because of your apparent dementia. As I said earlier, he feels too indebted to you to refuse you. So take back your request for help."

Brian could almost see the nerve on Cody's forehead throbbing. Daphne was right; he needed help.

"Brian, you're not going to be able to convince me to change my mind. Not now, not ever. I'm doing this, and Justin _is_ going to help me.  So why don't you and your friend be off on your merry way?"

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?! Justin is a twenty five year old _artist_ , who is struggling to get his life back on track! He is not one of the X-Men! Find someone else to help you with your goddamn plan!"

Frustration and anger was ready to explode out of every pore in Brian's body. He wanted to grab Cody by the neck and throttle him until he turned blue.

Cody continued his cold glare. "Well, I'm really sorry to be such a crimp in your life, but unlike you, I don't have an army of men at my disposal to help me out every time I snag my suit. I need to depend on the few friends I have." His glare briefly rested on Michael before his eyes went back to Brian. "And seeing as how Justin _is_ my friend; he is going to help me friend out."

"No he's not."

"Oh yes he is. Seeing as how he has already said ok, there seems to be little you can do anyway."

"No. He's. Not." Brian spoke each word slowly, enunciating clearly. Cody was obviously beyond reason; Brian would have to revert to Plan B. Not that Brian had ever really imagined that he would have been able to convince Cody to see things his way without additional incentive.  

Cody looked at him, angry amusement dancing in his eyes. "Are you trying to threaten me?"

"No, I'm paying you off. I'm settling Justin's debt to you."

"What?" Cody stared at him blankly.

"I'm settling Justin's debt to you. Here on after, he owes you nothing. So don't come asking him to repay anymore favours to you."

Cody paused as he thought of what Brian said, but the frown on his face told Brian that he wasn't getting it. Cody spoke to Brian. "So...what? You're volunteering to take Justin's place? Because that's really not going to work."

Brian sniggered. "My not wanting Justin to be part of you harebrained scheme should be a clue that I'm not volunteering for a lead role in it either. No Cody, I'm literally paying off Justin's debt to you."

Cody was forced to admit to incomprehension at this point. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about money. Cold hard cash."

" _What?_ "

Daphne had been looking at Cody all this time, but even she turned to look at Brian in surprise and confusion.

"You heard me. This _is_ America. For the right price, you can hire the president to do your bidding, though I'm hoping that's not where you'll look. If you don't have an army of men at your disposal - and given your corrosive personality I'm not really surprised - hire them. Hire one, hire ten, I don't give a shit. Just leave Sunsh - just leave Justin out of it."

Cody's jaw dropped open. "You're paying me off??"

"Are you slow? Haven't I repeated myself four or five times already? Am I using particularly difficult words? _Yes_ , I'm paying you off."    

"You're paying me off." Cody echoed Brian. "You think you can pay me off...?"

"Cody, everyone has a price. Name yours. You want someone to assist you while you play _V_ \- I'm sure a hired gun will be far better suited for the job as opposed to our rather unwilling friend Justin. Hire two. As I said, I don't give a shit. You get to implement your diabolical plan, and we," Brian looked at Daphne at this point, "get to keep Justin safe and sound."

 Cody stared at him incredulously. "You're crazy."

"Yes well, my brand of crazy pales in comparison to yours. I'm dead serious. Hire a professional to do whatever it is that you were planning on getting Justin to do. Name your price and we'll go right now and get the cash. Then you'll call Justin, make your excuses, and tell him you found another loon to help you and drive back to Brooklyn. I'll even throw in the gas money."

The good thing about dealing with crazy people, Brian thought, was that all you had to do was appeal to their elemental nature.

Daphne's eyes were darting from Brian to Cody, and Brian didn't have to wonder too hard about what she must be thinking. He couldn't see Michael's expression, because he was standing in front of Michael.

"You're actually serious, aren't you?"

"Yes Cody, I am. Of course, if you want to use the money as retainer fees for a psychiatrist, and I strongly recommend that you do so, I'd still pay you. But this is the deal: it ends here.  No more favours, no more vigilante justice, no more guns and roofies and dark alleys.  

In the future, if you ever even _consider_ asking Justin to be part of a scheme remotely close to this, you call _me_ , not him. Next time you speak to Justin, it will be to get drunk, to play pool or to get a sketch for a tattoo. This violent nexus between the two of you ends now.

Do we have a deal?"

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	22. Chapter 22

Justin reluctantly crawled out of bed to look for his clothes, which were scattered all over the loft. Again. He had an early class the next day, so he wanted to leave relatively early. Plus, he didn't think Brian particularly enjoyed driving around Pittsburgh at all odd hours of the night, dropping him back at his place because despite Justin's insistence that he could find his own way back home, Brian kept dropping him home each time.

It had been just over two weeks since Cody had left, and Justin had wound up at Brian's most of the nights since then. He still couldn't quite figure out Cody's departure...Cody had left saying that he couldn't depend on Justin being reliable if his heart wasn't in it, and had let Justin know a few days later that he was still going ahead with his plan and that he had found another accomplice. As far as Justin knew, short of Justin himself, there wasn't another person in the whole tri-state area who even liked Cody, so Justin was at a loss to understand who this accomplice was, but further information from Cody had not been forthcoming. At any rate, Justin was so relieved that he hadn't been sucked into that death trap that he chose not to question it too much.

Brian had kept him fairly distracted as well. Any night that Justin went to Woody's or Babylon had ended up with Brian bringing him back to the loft. There were also times where he ended up at Brian's far earlier than for just an evening fuck; when he had met Brian at Lindsay's or the diner or even Vanguard, they usually ended up at the loft, eating, talking and screwing each other, in random order.

And on all such occasions, Justin had insisted on going back home afterwards. So Emmett was right; Brian clearly displayed a sustained interest in him, but Justin wasn't interested in being a glorified trick. Justin knew that he was still very much in love with Brian; he would forever be so. He also knew that Brian Kinney didn't do love. So he had no clue what he was supposed to do about it, and decided that he would enjoy this state of affairs for a little while longer until he got it all figured out.

As he pulled on his pants, Justin could feel Brian's eyes on him, and Brian was making no move to get dressed.  _I wonder if he's decided that not to drop me back home anymore._

Brian's voice broke the silence.

"Do you keep going back to your place because you want to, or because you think that's what  _I_  want you to do?"

Justin decided to ignore the question, as he couldn't quite formulate an appropriate answer. He heard Brian get off the bed and make his way to where Justin was. Brian pulled him in by his waist and started kissing his neck.

"Sunshine, you could just leave a toothbrush here and maybe then we can stop this midnight run...hmmmm..."

Justin continued to remain silent, but he did stop looking for his clothes as his hands started exploring Brian's body.

Brian just managed to complete his sentence.

"...till then, I think I need one for the road."

Justin didn't know which he was more distracted by; Brian's casual remark about leaving a toothbrush, Brian's roaming hands or Brian's tongue doing party tricks. 

Just then, he noticed a phone vibrating against the kitchen counter; it must've been Brian's phone, as Justin could feel his own phone inside his pocket.

"Aren't you going to get that?"

"If it's important, they'll call back."

Brian pushed him roughly against the sofa and Justin's pants found their way to the floor.  _Mmmmmm, one for the road was looking real good._

Brian's home phone started ringing, which they both ignored. By the time it went to voicemail, Brian had already reached for a condom.

But when Cody's voice filled the loft, two bodies froze.

"Just to let you know that I was right - my plan  _did_  work and none of us are dead, so even if it had been Justin here, you wouldn't have had to stand over anyone's casket. But I suppose Justin perhaps may not have been the best person to aid and abet, so I suppose a thank you is in order."

 

* * *

 

"I'm still waiting for an explanation." Justin was fully dressed now, and his face resembled a hurricane. Brian had put on a pair of jeans and little else. He had said very little since Cody's message; of course, in the face of Justin's initial rants, he wouldn't have been able to say much anyway.

"I spoke to Cody and asked him to leave you alone."

"You spoke to Cody and asked him to leave me alone?" Justin's voice had finally dropped to a level, icy tone.

"Technically, I asked him to leave you out of his harebrained scheme." Brian saw no need to be even more technical and let Justin know that a fair bit of money also exchanged hands.  _Damn_  that Cody - all the way from Brooklyn he was still making trouble.

A million different questions were popping up in Justin's head. "You asked him and he said ok? Just like that? And what the fuck Brian? Who asked you to get involved? Who told you about Cody?"

"In answer to your first question, I may have pointed out to Cody the disadvantages of having you aid & abet. Numerous times. I'm going to skip the next couple of questions and jump to the last one. Who told me? You and Daphne...I overheard the two of you at the park that Sunday, talking about this..."

Justin visibly paled, and his voice dropped further. "You... _you were there_...? You heard...?" Brian had heard? Brian  _knew?_  Another million questions formed on top of the earlier lot.

"Yes."

"Brian, you had no right! This is  _my_ life! You shouldn't have interfered, you should have told me, you should have -"

"Oh and  _now_  you're getting all moral police on me? I should have told you what, exactly? That I successfully got Cody to leave you out of his death-wish schemes? Or that you should _never_ have agreed to it in the first place? Or, maybe what I should have done is exactly what you're doing now - throw a hissy fit demanding to know why the  _fuck_ you didn't tell me about what you did with Kip!"

_Fuck._ This conversation was  _not_ heading in the right direction. At all. Justin felt, once again, that his life was spinning completely out of his control. He blinked several times, trying to keep up with Brian, whose volume was increasing by the second.

"Justin, for fuck's sake! What were you  _thinking_?"

"I was  _thinking_ that someone needed to bail your ass out of the mess you were in with Kip! Not like anyone else was volunteering, and last I recall, you and Mel were pretty short of ideas."

"So you called  _Cody_? Why the fuck didn't you tell me when I fucking  _asked_ you? All that drama with Horvath...do you have any _idea_ how dangerous it was? You took a goddamn roofie! What if something went wrong? And because you did that, you almost got killed a second time round with Cody's scheme- "

"Well, nothing went wrong, ok? I was fine and -"

" _Nothing went wrong?_ You were sick for days; you had the goddamn cops on your back for weeks! By what bizarre logic does that get classified under 'nothing went wrong'? And lest we forget, you and Kip Thomas was the primary reason for Cody to demand your help. And don't even  _think_ of telling me that nothing would have gone wrong on that count."

Justin realized that he was being as obstinate as a mule, but under the circumstances, it was preferable to be arguing the relative dangers he put himself in as opposed to Brian actually asking him  _why_ he did what he did.

"You heard the man. Nothing  _did_ go wrong. My point is that you shouldn't have interfered -"

Brian could not believe Justin was being so obtuse about his own actions and yet insisted on bitching about Brian's interference; this whole thing was going from the sublime to the ridiculous. With mounting frustration, he walked over to Justin, grabbing him by the shoulders.

" _Justin_. What the fuck is wrong with you? How can you be so cavalier about your own safety?  _Anything_ could have happened to you!"

Justin squirmed under Brian's hold, finally managing to push Brian's arms off him. "I'm not  _being_  cavalier. Nothing happened! I'm always careful -"

"Jesus! Are you listening to yourself?! How can you have such little concern for your own well being? We care about you and -"

"I don't  _want_ you to care about me!"  _I want you to love me._

Brian stared at Justin, incredulous. "What did you say?" _  
_

_Fuck._ Justin had well and truly put his foot in his mouth.  _Fuck fuck fuck._  He was mad at Brian for interfering, he was furious that Brian had heard what he  _clearly_ wasn't meant to hear and now he didn't even know how he was supposed to explain any of it. And he was beginning to hyperventilate. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

"Why did you speak to Cody? You're not supposed to get involved- this is  _my_ life, and everyone else is running it!" Ok, so the breathing wasn't working too well.

"What is the  _matter_  with you? I spoke to Cody so that you would be  _safe_. So that nothing would  _happen_  to you! How does that equate to running your life? And while we're on the topic of interfering, how about you explain Kip?"

"What's there to explain? You needed help, I helped you."

"What the fuck kind of logic is that? If I need help, you can help, but when you need help -"

"That's my point - I didn't  _need_ help. I had things under control."

"Bullshit. I was there, Justin. I heard you. You didn't have anything under control - you were shit scared about being dragged off by Cody to do god knows what. I've told you before - don't lie to me because you're piss poor at it. Now can you calm the fuck down? You helped me when I needed it, and I helped you. We're even now and -"

"So this was about evening the score? " Justin looked as if Brian had just shot his pet dog.

Brian was seriously running out of ideas on how to gain control of the situation, and Justin seemed hell bent on willfully misunderstanding everything he said. Looking at Justin's face now, Brian couldn't believe that he had the capability to hurt Justin so much, with just an offhand remark. He tried to keep his voice as calm and soothing as the situation would allow.

"Sunshine, I spoke to Cody to keep you from getting into trouble. It was  _not_ about evening anything out, ok? I care about you, and I want you safe."

Brian decided that this was as good a time as any to discuss the other major issue that hadn't been touched on.  _Maybe after we've discussed all this, I'll get a chance to actually thank him for taking care of Kip._

"We need to talk about this shit, Justin. All I did was speak to Cody - you risked a hell of a lot more when you took on Kip. And you would have risked your life by agreeing to help Cody...and going by what little I heard, I'm guessing that we can trace your utter disdain for your own well-being to what happened with Hobbs."

"I am  _not_ discussing Hobbs with you. What are you now, a shrink?"

"You should be so lucky if I was a shrink, because you so clearly need one! I want to know what happened with Hobbs." The more Brian reached out to Justin, the more Justin kept pushing him away.

"It's none of your fucking business!"

"Goddamn it Justin, I will hunt down Hobbs and ask him myself if I have to, so how about you tell me instead, huh? Tell me what happened, why you're so ashamed about me finding out -"

" _No!_ It was years ago - who the fuck cares? It doesn't even matter anymore."

"If it doesn't matter anymore, why the hell can't you tell me what happened?"

Justin finally snapped.

"Because I was stupid, ok? Because I was miserable fucking moron. If I had paid the least bit of attention to what the fuck was going on around me, Hobbs would never have gotten a bat anywhere close to my head! I lost four years of my life because I was a goddamn idiot. I fucked up my mother's life even more, made her sick with worry, ruined my scholarship, got involved with vigilante Cody because I was a fucking numbskull!'

"Justin -"

"What? Isn't this what you so desperately wanted to hear? Well, here it is! Six years. I hadn't seen you for  _six years_ , and the last time that I  _had_  seen you was only to hear how you weren't gay and how you fucked me because you felt bad for me and all that shit and I was  _still_  head over heels in love with you. Fucking besotted I was; besotted enough that when I met Hobbs in Brooklyn, I was all over him, because I thought he'd be in touch with  _you_ , seeing how the two of you had been good friends. I was so fucking _stupid_  and  _blind_ and I just didn't see what was right there in front of me...it was Brian this and Brian that and until that goddamn motherfucking bat hit my head, I didn't realize what Hobbs was!

I don't need to go see some shrink; what happened happened because I was a fucking moron who was too stupid to see what was right in front of him - kinda like I was with you in high school. Funny how I'm still the same idiot, isn't it?

So are you happy now? Huh, Brian? Are you? You  _should_  be, because now you know. I got hit on the head because I was too in love with you to see what was right there in front of me. Whatever the fuck I risked with Kip, I did it for you. And I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Because I'm in love with you, and I would do  _anything_ for you."

"Justin -"

"Don't _._ Don't say anything. I don't want to hear it. Brian Kinney doesn't do love, Brian Kinney doesn't do couples, Brian Kinney doesn't do anything the fuck that matters! Your reputation precedes you and I've heard it from everyone else, so I really don't need to hear it from you. We had this talk ten years ago, anyway. History really  _does_  repeat itself. I'll see myself home."

Justin had never moved as quickly as he moved towards the door.

" _Justin -"_

" _NO! Don't!_ Just...just don't! I  _really_ don't want to speak to you, and I want to hear your voice even less. Please. Do me this one favour and leave me the fuck alone."

Justin didn't bother to even look at Brian as he slammed the door shut.

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	23. Chapter 23

**Woody's**

 

Brian hadn't seen Justin for days. After his outburst at the loft, Brian figured that he would give Justin sometime to cool down. Actually, if he was honest with himself, he was giving them  _both_ time. Brian had no fucking clue what he was going to tell Justin when he eventually got a hold of the blonde.

Justin was in love with him. Brian should have expected it, he should have known, it should have been obvious. But it wasn't. It had still come as something of a shock. It was one thing to have someone be in love with you - between Michael and Lindsay, Brian was very familiar with the concept - but the kind of love Justin brought to the table was entirely different.

It was so...it was so honest and selfless and unqualified and absolute. Justin had seen Brian at his worst, he had been subjected to the most callous Brian could be, and he would still risk his life for Brian without batting an eyelid. He  _did_ risk his life for Brian, expecting absolutely nothing in return. Brian had no doubt whatsoever that Justin would did it all over again.

And it scared the living daylights out of him.

Brian Kinney was fucking terrified. He shook his head. This was abnormal, even for him; Brian Kinney was scared shitless of a 25 year old blonde who was so unequivocally in love with him.

Justin was wrong. This had nothing to do with Brian Kinney not doing love or couples or anything that mattered. Clearly, that was something Brian had little control over. Scrappy little Justin Griffith had managed to get under his skin when he was nineteen; Justin Taylor had managed to do a lot more damage ten years later.

Brian grimaced. You didn't need to be familiar with love to recognize it when it suddenly hit you over your head with a jackhammer.

Not that it changed the situation at hand any: first and foremost, the fact that a person like Justin deserved someone better went without saying. Second of all (and this was the really scary part), Brian was absolutely certain that he was unqualified to be the recipient of the kind of love that Justin had chosen to bestow upon him. He could barely be a part-time father to Gus without two supervisors and a handbook and he was supposed to be the one to take care of Justin? What Brian Kinney couldn't do wasn't love and couples (Justin was living proof of that); it was rose gardens and sunshiny skies and the promise of a happily ever after where things would always be good and fine. He couldn't do story book endings, and a story book ending was what Justin deserved. 

And that was without taking into consideration the fact that all the shit that seemed to have happened to Justin was inexorably linked to Brian himself.

Brian was forced to pause his thoughts when he felt someone shaking his shoulder and he turned to look at two pairs of concerned eyes, belonging to Ted and Emmett. Brian wasn't quite sure for how the two of them had been there.

"Where's Justin?"

Brian glared Emmett. "How the fuck should I know?"

Emmett raised his eyebrows at Brian's tone, but sat down next to him anyway. "Ummm...maybe because you work with him? And you're kinda sorta unofficially but  _totally_  seeing him?"

If looks could kill, Emmett would have been a pile of ash. "Justin wasn't at work today."

Brian's actual lack of objection to everything else Emmett had said didn't go unnoticed.

"Yes he was."

Brian looked at Ted, and concern and curiosity ensured that Ted didn't get a death glare. "I looked for him - he wasn't there. How the fuck did  _you_  meet him?"

"Er...because he's not trying to avoid me?" Ted perched himself on the other side of Brian.

"Whatever." Brian motioned for another round of drinks, and Emmett looked at him with open concern, and spoke to him.

"So, I'm guessing that the reason you're being such a prickly old cactus - more so than normal anyway - is the same reason that Justin didn't care what I did with the trip to Vermont...? The two of you had a fight?"

Brian shook his head in exasperated amazement. "Has the whole of Pittsburgh run into Justin except me?"

"Well, Brian, honey, Justin must be avoiding you because you did something stupid. That's the way it usually works. So all you have to do is either undo your stupid action, or say you're sorry if you can't. Things will be back to perfect after that."

"Honeycutt, you have no idea what the fuck you're talking about."

Emmett frowned at Brian. " _Emmett_. The name is Emmett. So are you saying that Justin did something stupid? Because that doesn't sound...plausible in the least."

Brian sighed. "All I did was keep Justin out of some trouble. Are you two happy now? Can you please go harass someone else and leave me the fuck alone?"

Ted decided to ignore Brian's request.

"Justin is mad at you because you helped him? That sounds weird, even by Justin's standards." Ted furrowed his brows.

"Justin is mad at me because he's in love with me. As we all know, I'm not the type of person one is supposed to fall in love with. _Now_  will the two of you leave me alone?"

To Brian's utter amazement, neither Ted nor Emmett seemed even mildly surprised. They both looked at Brian, clearly expecting something more.

"Brian. Really. Justin's been in love with you forever.  _Everyone_  knows that, and Teddy and I just met the guy, so to speak.  He can't suddenly get mad at you for something that he's been feeling for years. Now. What did you do to piss him off?"

Brian looked from Emmett to Ted and back to Emmett incredulously. "Justin has been in love with me forever? And you know this how?"

Ted and Emmett both gave Brian are-you-really-that-stupid looks.

"I thought that Justin breaking the law and putting himself on the line for you was...how shall I put this...a clear indicator of how he felt?"

"And Justin and I sang together, remember? He didn't come out and say it, but I kinda figured it out from what he  _didn't_ say. Brian, really, I know that emotionally speaking, you're about twelve years old, but even so...this is like saying things get wet when it rains."

Brian stared at his drink. Honestly, there wasn't much he could say in the face of that.

Ted spoke. "So Justin is mad at you for some reason, and is avoiding you. You think it's because he's in love with you, a fact you managed to finally catch on to, bringing you up to speed with the rest of the world. So I'm guessing Justin is in fact avoiding you for a wholly different reason then.

Em, what do you think?"

Emmett took his time to answer, and when he did, though he was technically answering Ted, he was looking directly at Brian.

"Here's what I think. I think that Justin's got your back, and you've got his. As long as the two of you are aware of each other's existence, you'll always have each other's backs.  And Justin is in love with you. Which you've astutely caught on to. Finally.

Why is he mad at you? Aunty Em is guessing that it might have a little something to do with the fact that Justin might want to be something more to you than this kid who needs to be looked after all the time."

Brian looked at Emmett. "He  _told_ you that?"

Emmett huffed. "Haven't you been listening to me at all? I figured it out from what he didn'tsay...you know Brian, I won't pretend to know what you feel, but seriously, if someone loved  _me_  for ten years straight, and if that someone wasn't a psycho, had an ass that perfect and was overall  _anything_  like Justin, I would hold on to him for dear life."

With that, Emmett earned himself another glare.

"Have the two of you nowhere else to be? Does ‘leave me the fuck alone' not register at all?"

Ted smiled. "You know, until I went to school, I didn't know how to read and write."

"No shit, Theodore."

Ted continued, unhindered. "You don't have to learn everything in life before hand; sometimes, it's on the job training. You pick it up as you go along - so long as you know it's something you need. None of us are growing any younger - and Emmett is right. I don't see what's so great about rotating round the same spot while the world passes you by. Justin obviously doesn't care that you're not the kind of person he should fall in love with...why are you so bothered about it then?

Your life is out there waiting for you; but instead, here you are, getting drunk at Woody's. Unless you hang yourself when you turn thirty, you'll be forty four before you know it, and you'll live the next twenty years wallowing in regret.

Come on Em, let's head to Babylon. Having hundred and five men reject me is the perfect antidote to this overwhelming feeling of jealousy I have."

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


	24. Chapter 24

Justin waited patiently in queue, books in hand. Perhaps a Saturday afternoon wasn't the best time to shop for books, but Justin was looking for distractions. He had successfully avoided Brian for the last couple of days, and he had also avoided thinking about anything to do with his personal life by immersing himself in other activities.

He had worked like a dog and had handed over the finished book to Lindsay in the morning. He had also completed two projects for PIFA, ahead of time. Now he felt lost, and thoughts of Brian had started invading his mind once more.

Justin felt utterly embarrassed about the way he completely lost control of himself at Brian's. But there was no way he could have lied himself out of the situation, and frankly, Justin was surprised that Brian hadn't figured out for himself that Justin was crazy about him.  _Wasn't it obvious?_

Justin sighed.  He would have to face up to Brian sooner or later; they worked in the same office, and moved in reasonably similar social circles - at least as far as Lindsay and Emmett and the diner went. The meeting would happen sooner or later. He'd have to be stoic about it, maybe laugh it off by admitting to being an over-grown teenage drama queen. Brian would probably be more than willing to pretend that the whole fiasco never happened. In fact, Brian would probably be -

"Justin?"

Justin turned around in surprise at the voice.

"Michael. Hey."

Of all the people that he didn't want to run into, Michael ranked only slightly lower than Brian on Justin's list. Still, now that Michael had acknowledged Justin's presence, there was no choice but to grin and bear up. Justin had always assumed that he wasn't one of Michael's favourite people and he was surprised to see the other man smile at him genuinely.

"I was just walking by when I thought I saw you inside. Where have you been hiding? I haven't seen you around for a while."

"Uh...I guess I've been busy with work and school and stuff..."

"I thought I'd catch you and Brian at Babylon last night."

Justin couldn't help but be amused at how people seemed to assume that he and Brian were some kind of item...didn't  _anyone_ know Brian? He wondered how best to phrase the current state of affairs without having to give anything away.

"Actually, I haven't seen Brian for several days now...I thought he'd have been at Babylon last night...maybe he went to Adonis instead."

There, that should indicate to Michael that whatever had gone on between him and Brian were no more, Justin thought. Instead, Michael gave him a strange look.

"Are you done here? Shall we go grab a coffee? There's this really nice place nearby, it's called  _Saving Gigi_...Ben goes there all the time...they have all these vegan stuff, and it's actually delicious! You could kill someone for their brownies. The coffee is pretty good too. "

Coffee? With Michael? Justin was too surprised by the invitation to actually refuse. Besides, it was obvious that Michael was making an effort to be nice, and Justin wanted to return the sentiment. It wasn't Michael's fault that Justin was depressed, and Michael certainly wasn't to blame for him queening out at Brian's place.

As Justin sat with Michael at the coffee shop, he wondered how much Brian had told Michael about what had happened. Michael _was_ Brian's best friend, but Justin had his doubts about how much information actually flowed from Brian to Michael.

"Justin? Did you hear me?"

"I'm sorry Michael, I just spaced out there for a minute. What did you say?"  _Make an effort, Taylor._

"Uh...I was just making small talk...it wasn't important...and...anyway, that isn't why I asked you here."

Justin raised an eyebrow curiously, but couldn't quite figure out what to say. Fortunately, Michael continued.

"I've actually been wanting to speak to you for a couple of days now...since Brian told me...anyway...I guess I didn't have the guts to, and it was easy to avoid the whole thing, but then I saw you today and..."

"Michael, what is it? Is everything ok?" For the life of him, Justin couldn't imagine what this was about. What had Brian told him, anyway?

Michael smiled, clearly embarrassed. "Yeah yeah, everything's fine. It's just...I wanted to apologize to you, and thank you."

Justin couldn't have been more surprised unless Brian had popped up from behind Michael with a diamond ring.

"Apologize? Thank me? Michael, what are you talking about?"

"Justin, I don't think we quite got off on the right foot...and I'm mostly to blame for that. You had this...this  _thing_  with Brian, and I was jealous. I was jealous and probably quite rude to you, though I don't really remember." Michael smiled a little shamefaced. "I apologize."

That Justin was surprised went without saying, but he was also touched. He didn't know what had brought this on, but certainly, it took guts.

"Michael, don't be silly, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for!"

"No, I think I do. And I also want to thank you Justin, for making me realize something that no one else could make me see. I've been in love with Brian ever since we were in college...it's ok, don't be embarrassed...everyone knows, including Brian. I just always thought that when he got tired of screwing around, you know...he'd see me, the guy who's always stood by him...

But I didn't really do anything for Brian...as in, he was always Brian, and I was always the guy who defended him...and that was it. Then that Sunday at the park -"

"Brian  _told_ you?" Justin couldn't believe that Brian had told Michael. He also had no idea where Michael was going with this clearly personal confession.

"Well, Brian told me that you found out he was there...I was there with him when we heard you and Daphne....actually, I need to backtrack. It was even before that day at the park...Lindsay and I have to force Brian to do shit for us, but with you, it was weird...Brian actually thought of shit before someone had to tell him. Like that whole karaoke thing...and he fucked you, and he still kept you around...it was just so strange, seeing Brian smile and actually have fun and want to be with the same person for more than one evening. I can't remember when it was, but one day I saw the two of you walk into the diner smiling and laughing, and it just struck me that Brian was  _happy_."

Hearing Brian's best friend say these things raised a flicker of hope inside Justin that he didn't know was still there. Could it be true? That Brian was happy being with him, that there was... _No_.

Justin had to stop that train of thought. Even if Michael was right, he was fairly certain that Brian would want nothing to do with someone who was so desperately in love with him. This was Brian Kinney, after all. Whatever he may have felt, Justin must have scared it to instant death with his untimely confession of love. 

"Michael, I really think you're over thinking Brian's feelings...reactions...whatever you call it."

"Am I? Am I really? I don't think so...anyway, as I was saying, Brian seemed genuinely happy, and that was when I started thinking, maybe I'm wasting my time. That was when I called Ben back - and I'm so  _glad_ that I did. Then you got drunk at Babylon, and Brian took you to his place to take care of you - Brian Kinney doesn't do that for just  _anyone_. And that day after Brian dealt with Cody, he asked Cody what you two exactly did with Kip...Jesus, Justin! That was...that was insane!"

Justin smiled ruefully. "So I've been told...over and over again."

"Seriously, that was some crazy ass shit! And when I heard that, I just wondered about what the fuck I was doing...I might love Brian, but I would never take that kind of risk just to make sure that he was ok. It just struck me that no one would probably do as much for Brian as you would, and for me to begrudge you that just seemed ridiculous. I will always love Brian, but I will never love him the way you love him.

I want to thank you for making me realize that. Because if you hadn't come back into Brian's life, I'd have gone through my entire life pinning for a man who I didn't even really love; or at least, a man that I didn't love as much as he could be loved. And he would never  _ever_ have loved me back the way I wanted him to. I found Ben on my own, but because of you, I learnt to truly appreciate Ben. Thank you."

Michael smiled at him, and it struck Justin how difficult this confession must have been for Michael.

Justin felt a lump in his throat. Michael might be childish and annoying and whiny and even a bit stupid at times, but the man had heart.  _This_ was why he was Brian's best friend - because of that heart of gold. Justin suddenly felt incredibly guilty for the time he had ripped into Michael; Michael had just been trying to protect Brian. He was a good friend, in his own way, and more importantly, he was a good person.

"Michael...you don't have to thank me...or apologize...you don't owe me anything at all...you're Brian's best friend...whatever you did or felt towards me, you did so with the best of intentions. I do think that you're wrong about how Brian feels about me, but I'm happy for you and Ben. And really and truly, you have absolutely no reason to thank me or apologize to me. But I appreciate the thought, Michael. Thank you."

"I know...ok, I don't really know, because Brian wouldn't tell me much. But I know that the two of you had some kind of a fight. Justin, I just want you to know that you're wrong. About how Brian feels about you, that is. He practically begged your friend Cody to leave you alone. Well, as much as Brian Kinney is capable of begging. Without anyone even having to tell him to. All on his own.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that he becomes a better person for you; he makes an effort that I haven't seen him make for anyone else. I don't know why you're mad at him, but you're good for him, the way Ben is good for me. Ben makes me want to be a better person, and whether Brian admits it or not, I think you do the same for him. I hate to see him miss out on something good because of...well, I don't know because of what.

This is Brian Kinney - he's not like you and me, and I think you know that better than all of us. Really, with him, it isn't what he says, but what he does. Think about it."

 

* * *

 

Justin was walking back home slowly. Daphne was spending the weekend at Kevin's, so he was pretty much all alone. His head was full of Brian, then Michael, and then some more Brian. In fact, his head was so full of Brian that Justin briefly thought he was hallucinating when he saw the corvette parked in front of his house, and Brian leaning on the hood, smoking a cigarette. 

Justin paused, trying to gather his thoughts before approaching any closer. Michael's words were running through his head at the speed of light. Brian was  _here,_ at Justin's place. This wasn't some accidental meeting; Brian was here specifically to see him. Justin felt his heart swell with emotion.

_He makes an effort that I haven't seen him make for anyone else_

Brian turned at that moment, and met Justin's eyes.

"Hey." Brian's voice was quiet; as if Justin's acrimonious rants against him had never happened.

"Hey."

Justin walked slowly towards the car; he felt as nervous as a high school kid. "Daphne's not home." Ok, now I  _sound_  like a high school kid, he thought.

Brian smiled at him. "So I gathered. Luckily for me, I'm not here to meet Daphne."

"Oh."

"You're a hard man to find, Sunshine. You've been avoiding me."

"I didn't think you'd notice."

"But I did."

Justin walked over, and leaned against the car, beside Brian. He silently took the cigarette Brian had been smoking. They remained that way for several minutes, leaning against the car, sharing the cigarette. Brian broke the silence.    

"I'm an asshole."

Justin was forced to smile. "You're going to have to be a bit more specific, Brian."

"I'm an asshole Sunshine, and yet you love me in spite of it."

Justin had to think before he answered, but he didn't look at Brian. "Lots of people love you in spite of it."

Brian turned to look at him. "Not the way you do."

Justin wondered fleetingly if Brian and Michael had discussed this amongst themselves, or whether it was just that Justin was so transparent. He opened his mouth to make an excuse for Brian before getting hit with a rejection, but then he stopped himself.

It had taken Michael a lot of guts to tell Justin what he did -  but it took even more guts for Michael to act on those feelings and move away from Brian. Was Michael really wrong? Or was it Justin that was mistaken? Brian Kinney was here, waiting for him on his front lawn. No Cody, no Kip, no Vanguard, no high school tuition. He was  _here_. He didn't have to be, but he was. That had to mean something. It just  _had_  to.

Justin turned to look at Brian, renewed hope making his eyes sparkle. "You're still an asshole."

"I'm not the asshole people think I am. But I  _am_  an asshole."

"So I guess that makes me a complete idiot for being in love with you."

Brian held Justin's cheek in the palm of his hand as he answered. "No, being in love with me so completely, the way you are, makes you the most beautiful person I know." He leaned in and kissed Justin, slowly and deeply.

By the time Brian pulled away, the cigarette was lost, trampled underfoot, and Brian had his free arm firmly around Justin's waist.

"What makes you an idiot is risking your life for an asshole like me." Brian smiled softly. "Not a complete idiot, but an idiot nevertheless."

Justin dropped his gaze, and studied the buttons on Brian's shirt intently.

"Sunshine. Justin. Listen to me. Are you listening?"

The hand on Justin's cheek made the study of buttons difficult. Justin reluctantly met Brian's eyes.

"Thank you."

"Brian, you don't -"

"Yes, yes I do. I've wanted to thank you for what you did for me ever since I found out - which, incidentally, wasn't with Cody, but when you had a run in with Kip at Vanguard many moons ago."

"Why...how come you never said anything?" Justin was confused, and he felt his newfound hope sinking like a lead balloon.

Brian didn't let go of Justin. "Because you didn't want me to. You practically threatened Kip with a fate worse than death if he told me...I was respecting your wishes. It was the least I could do."

Justin tried hard to keep the disappointment and confusion he felt hidden. "So all this time you were with me...it was because you were...grateful?"

"If I wanted to show you gratitude, I would have bought you a car. Or a new sofa. I was with you all this time, because I  _wanted_  to be with you. Do you understand, Sunshine?

Given how I treated you, the fact that I'm a dick, you should have been long gone. Yet here you are. Given your words, all the exits you've offered me, I should be picking up some trick at Woody's right now. Yet here I am. You're here because you want me. And I'm here because I want you. Sometimes, it's just that simple."

_Ten years_. Ten years Justin had waited for this. His eyes were shining, and he held on to Brian, more than anything, to make sure that he was real and not just a figment of Justin's imagination.

_I'm here because I want you._

When Brian enveloped him in a hug, Justin tried not to cry. And when he heard Brian's next words, it took all of his strength to hold the tears in.

"I didn't lie to you Justin. At some level, maybe I was grateful for what you had done, but I spoke to Cody so that you would be safe. I want you around for a long time - I don't want anything to happen to you."

Brian pulled Justin to face him, and Justin knew that there was no way he could hide the tears that were pooling in his eyes. Brian gently wiped them away, but he continued to speak.

"Sunshine, I want his craziness to end. My caring about you doesn't mean shit when you don't care about yourself. I would give anything to make everything all right for you, but it isn't something that I can do. You need to see someone - a professional, who will help you deal with what happened, deal with Hobbs, deal with this irrational guilt you feel. Deal with it so that we can move forward."

"Brian, I don't need to see a therapist..." All Justin had ever needed was right there in front of him, holding him.

"One of these days, my back is going to be turned, and I want to know that you're going to be safe. That no one can guilt trip you into risking your life. Do it for me."

Michael was right. It wasn't what Brian said, but what he did. And whatever Brian had said and done was over and above anything Justin had ever dreamed of. He didn't need to hear Brian tell him that he loved him; Brian had just shown him.

Justin laced his fingers through Brian's hair, pulling Brian's head closer and whispered softly before his lips met Brian's.

"I'll do it for you."  
  


**THE END**

 

 

End Notes:

**A/N** : A huge thank you also goes out to  **Xrifree** , first for inspiring me to write this story with one of her own, and also for reviewing it, and gently nudging me in the right direction. You're awesome! 

 

 

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

This story archived at <http://www.midnightwhispers.ca/viewstory.php?sid=1558>


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